C'est la Vie
by KeyBella
Summary: AU. Samantha Manson woke up with twelve hours until her wedding...only to wake up the morning of to discover that she was already married to some guy named Danny Fenton, who was definitely NOT her fiancé. Oh...crap. Her mother was going to kill her.
1. Wake Up Call

The last thing she remembered was an orange and pink lei.

It was flimsy looking, though slightly endearing, and it was currently the last vivid memory she had of the night before, besides a tray of some drink she couldn't remember. Maybe that was why her confusion was only deepened slightly when she awoke with it in her grasp, tightly woven around her left hand. What confused her more though, was how she could be so tired upon just waking up...or why she was waking up barefoot yet otherwise as far as she could tell, fully-clothed in an empty bathtub for that matter.

The young woman was jarred from her thoughts by a shrill beeping noise that sent sound waves that could be from nowhere but Hell reverberating in and around her skull.

Her eyes shut instinctively as she wildly pawed the cool, smooth, white surface for the stupid device she knew had to be nearby. Just when she thought her brain was going to combust, her lei-wrapped hand grasped onto the flat, silver and violet cellphone. Daring herself to squint at it as she brought the phone to her face, trying to block out the disturbing echo in her brain, she touched the screen two or three times until she had shut the alarm off.

_'12 Hours Left!'_, the phone flashed at her obnoxiously.

The alarm faded to show her missed calls, which there were thirty-two of, all from the same number. Said number, she blearily noted, left her eleven voicemails, all marked urgent.

Speak of the devil, the number popped up on the screen under 'Incoming Call'. She clumsily slid her thumb to the button with the green phone shaped icon and pressed the phone to her ear.

"You called?" she croaked groggily.

As she spoke, she tasted the worst possible taste in her mouth. It was a mix between something metallic tasting and putrid. From the awful whiff she received, she could tell that it was a stench way beyond morning breath and that it could have possibly been mixed with death itself.

_'''YOU_ _CALLED'_?" came a loud and highly unwelcome screech. "I HAVE BEEN CALLING FOR **HOURS** AND I GET AN INQUIRY TO WHETHER I CALLED? YES, I _CALLED_! Where the hell are you, Samantha Manson? You sound like crap, by the way."

Her friend's words forced something to occur to her. "I...don't actually know."

She should have been smart enough to move the phone away, but she was still out of it from waking up...and from her friend knowing a word such as 'inquiry'. That was a little out of her reach, vocabulary wise.

"_YOU_ _DON'T_ _KNOW?_" the woman on the other end began shrieking in Spanish, inserting a couple of swears in every so often.

As Sam attempted to tune out the foreign screeching on the other end of the phone, she unsteadily got herself up into a standing position.

Immediately after doing so, she regretted it. She shakily lifted her lei-wrapped hand to her forehead as gravity slammed down on her. A wave of nausea and immense head rush washed over her momentarily, before the sickening feeling settled back into her throat as if it were waiting. She'd definitely be puking soon. She took a moment to steady herself as the room slowly began to stand stationary once more.

Trying to at least figure out where she was, (she'd get to why she was in a bathtub later) she took the time to let her eyes wander around the room. Okay, she was definitely in a bathroom...though it wasn't _her_ bathroom.

It was a fancy bathroom, much fancier than the bathroom at her apartment. The walls were themed with dome shaped light fixtures and crown moldings. Everything had a perfect balance of modern and antique, from the faucets to the two or three paintings carefully hung on the walls.

She thought back to where she was the night before—wait, it was morning right?

The raven-haired young woman quickly found out that even simple thinking made her head throb. Turning her head towards the window to the left of her, she could see that through the open crack, spilled brilliant sunlight. How had she not noticed that? It was practically illuminating the large bathroom and it was definitely **not** helping her headache in the slightest.

"Hm, finally, a good observation." She murmured bitterly, disgustedly rubbing her tongue on the roof of her mouth. The taste just wouldn't go away.

Going back to her surroundings, the bathroom was actually pretty large, really ruling out her average sized bathroom, and the bathroom of...Club Baja! That's where she was last night. …And she was there because…

She felt incredibly stupid, and trying to remember was quite possibly more painful than trying to figure out where she was. Obviously, she had been to Club Baja last night for…for…oh! Her bachelorette party! She'd been dragged there for her bachelorette party. There was no way that the tropical themed bathroom at the club could have passed for this museum-like bathroom at all. Yet, there was still a problem.

The party was obviously over now...since the person who'd dragged her there was on the phone, shrieking to know her whereabouts. Tired of hearing said shrieking, she ended the phone call without even putting the phone to her ear and switched her ringer to 'Silent'.

"What the hell happened last night?" she wondered, her voice thick and cracking. It was difficult to manage avoiding the disgusting taste in her mouth, but she did. Finally, her eyes came to the sink. She gazed blearily at the mirror hanging above it to see some sort of creature who resembled...oh God, it was **her**.

Her usually silky and straight black hair was strewn all over her head in tufts that she could already tell were going to be near impossible to get out. She used her right hand to try to brush her fingers through her hair to no avail. Her face now resembled that of a heavy metal band, due to the streaks of eyeliner and mascara that had streamed down her face sometime that night. Her lip colour, always the shade of 'Fatal Attraction', was smeared around her mouth in a way that reminded her of a clown…a sad, confused, and super hungover clown.

Her clothes, which if she remembered correctly, had consisted of a black fitted t-shirt with swirling red designs and dark jeans, were nowhere to be found. She was now in a blue and black flannel shirt and black jeans, which were currently hanging a little too low for her liking and were incredibly rumpled. She pulled up her pants, unexposing the top of her lacy red underwear and...was her shirt…or whoever's shirt inside out?

Feeling far too crappy to care, Sam just sighed internally, deciding that when she figured out where she was exactly (and why she'd woken up in a tub with a flimsy looking lei on her hand) that she would fix it, and everything else wrong with her. She'd seen 'The Hangover' and she was not liking what she was finding so far.

"What's today?" Sam picked up her phone to glance at the date. Suddenly that pesky little alarm made sense.

"Oh my God!" Sam leapt out of the bathtub in horror.

_'12 Hours Left!'_ until her wedding! She was going to be the only hungover and confused bride ever in the history of...wait, no she wasn't. She'd forgotten that her mother's side of the family would be attending. God only knew how many times they had to get her cousin Lucy to stop dancing on tables at her wedding. But still!

"I have to get out of here...wherever I am." Her eyes darted towards the door only seconds before her body did. She hurriedly threw open the door to see...feet.

Lying in a queen sized bed under a mountain of sheets, right outside of the bathroom were a pair of feet resting on a white pillowcase. The feet were Caucasian and looked to be male.

It was what lie at the foot of the bed that sent Sam's head reeling more so than before. Hanging out of the blankets was a masculine hand, and adorned on said hand was a wedding ring.

"Oh my God...I'm a whore...I'm a husband stealing whore." She gaped, barely aware of the fact that she dropped her cellphone.

Whizzing thoughts of a life as a dirty home-wrecking tramp swirled through her mind, which was in the most painful and dazed condition of overdrive since she'd woken up. After staring at the sleeping man for a moment, Sam got the sense to pick up her phone...before getting the sense to do something else with it.

"Get up!" She threw her phone at the sleeping figure wrapped in sheets. Well...no one said that it was 'good' sense.

The man awoke at once, looking incredibly alert. His eyes darted around for a mere second as if he were readying himself for a continuing attack. His eyes then fell upon her and his tensed muscles loosened, but not much.

"I know you..." He blinked in recognition. "At least...I think I do."

"Oh, I think you do!" Sam retorted, incredibly flustered.

She hadn't been expecting him to be so young since he was apparently married. She had been expecting that the married man who'd taken advantage of her inebriated state would be much older looking, like in his mid-thirties or early forties. Someone with kids perhaps that could have popped straight out of a Sears catalogue, and a wife that wore J. Crew and aprons and was as clean-cut as Jennifer Aniston.

No, instead she stood before a tousled haired, gorgeously blue-eyed twenty-something with no shirt on. He wasn't a bodybuilder or anything, but his stomach and abs were well formed and his arms were muscular. His eyes were a mix between cobalt and electric blue. They were strangely alluring and they were currently staring at her in confusion. Did he not remember how they'd gotten there either?

...Or maybe he was staring at her hair.

...She had a feeling he was staring at her hair.

"No," the blue-eyed spouse of another woman replied. "I really don't seeing as I wasn't married before this morning..."

Sam paled. Had she married a complete stranger? No. Definitely not. She was Sam. She was Sam, the beautiful, responsible, and incredibly levelheaded oldest child of Jeremy and Pamela Manson. She'd graduated Yale not too long ago, for God's sake!

Levelheaded, twenty-three year old Yale graduates who just happened to be the eldest of two heirs to multi-million dollar companies did not get drunk and marry complete strangers, no matter HOW _pretty_ their eyes were. She took a deep breath (which she then regretted having momentarily forgotten about her horrible coma inducing halitosis) and quickly let her amethyst eyes scan her hand.

Whew. No ring.

"Well," Sam replied, after her near heart attack. "It would seem that matrimony is the theme of the day. So, I'm going to let you get back to your new bride and I'm going to fix...everything wrong with me, which as you can see is a lot because I have..."

Sam took her phone from the man. "Exactly eleven hours and thirty-seven minutes until I get married myself, so congratulations..."

She trailed off and waited for him to fill in. When he didn't, she gestured at him slightly. "Name?" she questioned.

"Oh." He looked at her as if he'd been out of it. "Danny."

"Right, I'm Sam. Well, congratulations Danny. I'm off to prepare to marry."

"Your fiancé's not going to care that you spent a drunken night in a hotel room with a person whose name you didn't know until three seconds ago?"

Sam paused before shrugging. "I'm honestly debating over whether or not to leave that detail out. When you think about it, it's almost funny that I thought something had happened between us."

"Is it?"

Sam nodded. "Not to offend you or anything, but I'm just not the 'get drunk and make mistakes' type. I don't drink...at all."

"Oh." The man named Danny remarked. Sam nodded, feeling better about the situation already. Her phone made a beeping sound and she was really beginning to regret that there really was "an app for that".

"So it's weird how we must've gotten into this situation. Your wife must be worried sick. You going to tell her about this?"

"Yeah, I guess." He then muttered to himself about how someone 'must've gone back'.

As Danny spoke to himself, she made her way into the bathroom, happily grabbing the plastic wrapped toothbrush and the Colgate brand toothpaste.

As she brushed her teeth she couldn't help but laugh to herself. This would be one of those stories she'd tell her grandchildren. One of her favorite stories was of how Grandma Manson had woken up next to a goat and a grocer (ironically both named Felipe) in Tijuana.

"You know," Sam laughed after rinsing out her mouth. "I woke up in a tub."

Danny laughed. "Well, I woke up to a wild-haired girl throwing a phone at me. Shall we compare?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh also. She grabbed a single brush lying on the top of the toilet and began a sorry attempt at getting the tangles out. Every time she would get a tangle out, the stupid lei wrapped around her hand would get caught. "Ugh, stupid thing!" she ripped the lei off and the brush dropped to the floor with a 'clack'.

There, on her left hand, the hand that she SHOULD have looked at, was a simple silver and gold band. Sam screamed just as the nausea finally made its reappearance.

So, in case one might have wondered, the sink and the toilet were both porcelain. Sam only knew this because they and she had become very well acquainted thanks to her bachelorette party...that she barely remembered.

"I knew I shouldn't have let Paulina talk me into a stupid party." She muttered, her expression dark and her tone bitter. "I don't even like Paulina..."

Now she was glad she'd hung up on her. She was being punished for drinking, she was positive. Sam was never really one for partying and drinking and now that she had, wham! Punishment. She groaned throatily as she and her good pal Toilet were reunited once more. She had to have vomited up her sanity the night before because God only knew she was throwing everything else up now.

As she threw the lid down with a frustrated flush and shakily got up to wash the putrid taste out of her mouth, the blue-eyed man whose name she had come to learn as 'Danny' frowned at her in concern.

"You need anything?" he asked. Sam washed her mouth out with her right as she flashed him her left hand, which she'd finally got to stop trembling.

"An annulment." She answered tartly, moving him out of the way with as limited contact as was possible.

"Uhm...yeah. We're gonna get right on that." He promised, turning to look at her sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Good", is what she would have said had she and Toilet not had a reunion.

"I don't know how this would have happened. You have every right to be mad, I just—"

Sam cut him off and continued her pace across the bathroom. "Not mad. Just stressed. Stressed...and confused...and more stressed. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I-I'm not being fair. It's just that…I'm getting married. No. I CAN'T get married. I'm ALREADY married. Oh my God." She doubled over the sink, this time triggering it herself.

She heard Danny tiptoe backward, obviously not wanting to see her get sick in the sink again. Who would?

The horrible feeling of nausea momentarily subsided, Sam still found herself stuck with the other uncomfortable feelings. She slouched on the side of the sink, once again trying to ignore the horrible taste in her mouth. At least she knew where it came from this time.

"What am I going to do?" She groaned.

"You...aren't expecting me to really answer that are you?" Danny asked.

"No," Sam sighed. "Please, for the sake of my sanity, don't."

The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken by the sound of vibration. Sam cradled her head, surprised at how much it seemed to hurt, and the fact that she hadn't thought of what her mother would do to her before that point.

"It's your phone alarm. It says _'11 Hours Left!'_...Oh, and you have five missed calls from a 'Paulina'."

Sam whimpered and frowned as pain coursed through her head. She was...she was...ma-mar...

She couldn't even force herself to think it. Out of all of the scenarios she could have possibly put herself into, it was an understatement to say that this was definitely not one.

She would have to cancel the wedding obviously. She would have to face her friends and family, and even her fiancé, and as hard as it was, she could do it. She would have to cancel with the church, the caterers, and the band. Her father would lose a substantial deposit, but she could do that too. She could also call the airport and cancel the reserved seats, and tell the hotel in Boca that their honeymoon suite was up for grabs again, which was also doable.

But under no circumstances whatsoever could Samantha Manson ever look her mother in the eyes and confess that she had abandoned the fiancé deemed perfect for her, for a cute, blue-eyed stranger.

At that point she would have rather lived with that breath forever and let it slowly suffocate her. She cast a longing glance at her toothbrush and a hateful one in the direction of the hairbrush and the lei. The stupid, stupid lei.

She, Miss Samantha Manson was now Mrs. Samantha...she didn't even know his last name.

Oh God. What was she going to do?


	2. Walking A Mile In My Own Shoes

The first thing she did was find out his last name, which was Fenton. Okay, so she was currently Mrs. Samantha Fenton.

The second thing she did was go into 'breathing mode'. Freaking out did nothing, and she resolved that she needed to be doing something. Ergo, she would not be freaking out anymore.

The third thing she did was weigh _their _options.

She couldn't help but cringe a little at the fact that she was a 'them' and not a 'her'; a 'they' and not a 'she'. She was currently bound in a m...m...—she was one half of a unit in holy matrimony. Switching her thoughts around, she turned to Danny.

They were both currently in the bedroom of the hotel, which they had (or rather he had, she was too busy with her head stuck in the toilet…and then the bathtub…) figured out to be the Atheneum Suite Hotel. He had intelligently thought to look at the labeling embroidered on the fluffy white towels. Further investigation told them that they were in the deluxe suite and that they had definitely made usage of the in-room mini bar.

Just the thought of any type of 'bar' whether it be of soap, or a bar of the alcoholic variety made Sam want to vomit.

She was currently sitting up in one of the plush couches in the room while Danny took to lying on his back on the unmade bed about three and a half feet away from her. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of Lysol and some other foreign cleaning product wafted in from the nearby bathroom.

Danny had come across a maid service cart on his short venture out of the room and had returned with three cans of Lysol and a spray bottle of a strong smelling fuchsia colored liquid. Sam hadn't questioned why he'd left, she was just grateful for the opportunity to brush her teeth in privacy. While Danny rid the bathroom of the awful smell of regurgitated…cosmopolitan! That's what it was!... and who knew what else, Sam sat and let her thoughts take her away.

She glanced at Danny as he stared at the ceiling, his hands flat behind his neck on the pillow.

Danny seemed to be incredibly calm throughout the situation so far, and Sam was unsure of whether or not to be unnerved by this. Had she married one of those annoyingly calm people? God, she hoped not. Another glance at him though, told Sam otherwise. His blue eyes seemed misted over as he stared above. His body seemed stiff and the edges of his mouth seemed to be turned into a frown.

Finally, as Sam's phone vibrated next to her with what was most likely another one of those annoying alarms that Paulina had set into her phone, she decided to speak.

"Are you okay?" she wondered.

She wasn't sure if he had heard her or not until he glanced at her and nodded. "I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about."

Sam gave him a quizzical look. That couldn't have been what was upsetting him, right? She hardly even knew the guy and he was worried about her? There had to be something else that was up.

"You're worried about me?" she questioned slowly.

Danny nodded as if it were obvious, and looked at her as if it were she who was acting oddly.

"You know, I might be the one who woke up this morning with a different last name, but you still got this equally slammed on you." She told him, sitting up more.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting married today? I'm guessing you've got about five hundred to a thousand people to disappoint, and one angry groom. The only part of me I'm worried about is my face after he attempts to kill me." Danny gave a small smile.

Sam laughed. "Trust me, he wouldn't hit you. He'll be a little…mad, but I don't think he'll want to kill you."

Danny didn't seem all that convinced, but she left it alone. After a few more minutes of silence and another missed call on her phone, Sam decided that it would be best for her to go and at least try and add some order into the situation. She left Danny her cellphone number, promised that she would be out of his life soon enough with an apologetic smile, and headed downstairs to the lobby. What was she having conniptions over? This would all be over as soon as it had started, what was she so worried about?

She went to the checkout desk only to find out that her newfound friend (she seriously wasn't ready to come to terms with the other word yet) had footed the bill for the hotel with a credit card. She relaxed a little. Since the Atheneum Hotel ran about $3000 a night, she could safely assume that this whole…thing wasn't planned. This just disproved the argument that her mother would bring up that he was probably after her family's money, right? Unless he knew that she would check and he was just trying to keep up appearances. Great, so he was either rich and had taken her someplace fancy in hopes for getting something or it was stolen and he was a crook.

For some reason though, Sam couldn't imagine that blue-eyed stranger upstairs as being some kind of criminal mastermind, but he didn't exactly seem like the trust fund type either. Straightening up, she headed for the doors, her left ring finger feeling heavier than before.

She would have been ten hours, forty-two minutes, and eight...no nine, maybe even ten seconds away from being Mrs. Adam Cain.

Sam walked into the familiar space that was her apartment with a heavy heart, feet that burned, a throbbing head, feet that ached, a quivering stomach...and feet that were about to fall off, did she mention that? The walk home had been painstakingly long and horribly painful. Yes, she said **walk**.

She would have driven, but of course her black Nissan 350Z was nowhere to be found when she had gone searching for it. She'd given up after forty minutes and she dejectedly went to hail a cab, only to realize that her wallet was in her car, and that her car was MIA…in Detroit, when she lived just outside of Auburn Hills.

Great! Not only had she gotten stone drunk the night before, she'd jumped into the car of a stranger... She could not deny that there was a brief moment where she'd wanted to cry. Oh God, she was rhyming now. And let's not forget that she'd gotten married! Yes, she was now trying to make an attempt to say it. As difficult as it might have been to think of...what she had done, sometime during the cruel and punishing walk home she had come to terms with her...decision. Alright, so she wasn't completely to terms with it, so sue her!

God, she just wanted to fall into her large, feathery bed and sleep forever. She kicked off the shoes of her affliction that had seemed a lot cuter when she wasn't what had seemed like four and a half hours away from home. (It was really barely two, but her pain and despair led her to exaggerate.)

She walked by the mirror in the hall to see that she was just as haggard looking as she felt, and made her way toward her bedroom only to be stopped by the horrible sound of ringing in the kitchen. She groaned and trudged to it, not bothering to check the caller ID. As she answered however, she wished that she had.

"Hello?" Sam yawned, walking out toward the living room.

"Oh my God, are you TIRED? You'd better not have bags under your eyes, Sam Manson!" Paulina snipped.

Sam woke up at once, paling at the use of her last name. "Paulina, we need to talk."

"No, Sam. We don't have time to talk! Now, we've got like ten hours, which isn't enough time. You get married at 8'clock sharp tonight. It is going to be beautiful with stars and fairy lights, etcetera, etcetera." Paulina rattled on.

Sam could imagine Paulina looking over her checklist now and checking off 'stars', 'fairy lights', and 'etcetera'.

"No, Paulina, this conversation really can't wait."

"Chica, whoa. I get it, okay? You're nervous about this. That's totally understandable..."

"Paulina, no. I—"

"...it's going to be the wedding of the century, and you've got jitters, hon, it's okay. Now in thirty minutes..."

Why wasn't she listening? If breaking this to Paulina was this difficult she dreaded everything else even more so now; Paulina was supposed to be the easiest!

_'Stupid Sam,'_ she thought bitterly. _'Nothing with Paulina Sanchez is "easy".'_ She then smirked to herself, thinking of something mean to contradict that thought, but she shook her head in an attempt to focus.

"_Pau-lin-a_. Pay attention! We need to talk now because—"

"...we'll go get our nails done so that they look gorgeous during the—"

Sam held her head in her hands as she made her way to the living room. Lying on the couch, she internally pitied her head, not for Paulina's loudness, which there was actually a pleasant lack of, but for her stupidity, which seemed to be coming in waves. Maybe she should have just thought that thought about her from before. She would _so _think it next time...that is if she lived through this time.

It was a good thing that Sam didn't really care all that much for Paulina, or else she might have felt guilty for what she was about to do.

"—there isn't going to be a wedding, so shut up!"

"..."

"Paulina?" Sam questioned. She heard a loud clack on the other end of the phone and she surmised that it was either the clipboard or Paulina's haven't-had-a-carb-since-the-sixth-grade body.

"What was that?" Paulina's voice was dangerously low, and Sam could already hear the impending screeches.

"'There isn't going to be a wedding'?" Sam repeated. It wasn't that she was afraid of Paulina, it was that she was afraid of what Paulina could do to her waning hangover headache.

"No, after that! You told me to shut up!"

Sam rolled her eyes. Of course.

"Paulina, I need you to **focus**. I'm not getting married today."

She could hear Paulina picking something up, most likely her clipboard, as she asked, "Why? Do you have a pimple? Because I can definitely schedule a dermatologist visit after the nails. It's going to take fifteen minutes away from the aquatic massage, though."

"When in the hell did you book an aquatic ma—no. It isn't anything stupid like that."

"That isn't stupid!" Paulina argued, huffily. "Fine, then what is it?"

Sam took a deep breath. This would be her first time saying this aloud to someone beside herself. She could do this...she could definitely do this. "I'm already married."

There was a bigger sounding clack this time, sounding as if Paulina had not dropped the clipboard but thrown it into something expensive.

"YOU **ELOPED**? AFTER ALL THE PLANNING I DID, YOU AND THAT BLONDE _PRETTYBOY_ **ELOPED**?"

Sam shut her eyes. The impending loudness had arrived. This was really going to be more difficult than she'd expected.

"What? No, Paulina. That's the problem. It isn't Adam that I'm married to."

"Then who the hell did you marry, Johnny Depp? I heard Keanu is back on the market, actually." Sam turned to the door as the bell buzzed. "Let me up, Raviv isn't here."

Raviv was Sam's doorman, a foreign young man about her age. He was from a country that Sam had never heard of before, but his accent sounded more Hindu than anything. He was sweet although a bit naïve. Sam found it very funny how he always seemed to disappear once Paulina appeared. He claimed it was because she reminded him of a legend from his country about a woman who killed men by draining their blood. Sam had only laughed and said that she drained wallets, not blood.

She buzzed Paulina up and moments later the elevator opened and out stepped Paulina, dressed to the tens in an ice-blue mini dress and Balenciaga heels. Her perfectly manicured pink nails flashed at Sam as the woman before her clutched a broken clipboard in one hand and whipped off her glasses with the other. Paulina's teal colored eyes darkened as she replied, "You look like crap."

Her eyes then trailed over to Sam's black Louboutins that had been left by the door.

Sam ignored her sullied gaze and walked back to the couch where she then proceeded to close her eyes and lie her head down and ball up into a fetal position. Paulina made people want to do that, you know. Paulina walked—no, correction, Paulina never walked. She traipsed past Sam and into the kitchen and opened what sounded like the fridge.

"So now, what's going on?" Paulina flopped down on the couch near Sam's curled up feet.

"I'm married." She flashed her the solid wedding band and turned her head away to the side.

Paulina grabbed her hand and scoffed. "Well, it's not Johnny or Keanu because they definitely would have scuffed up for a bigger rock...or a rock in general. This is just a pinsy little band."

Sam pulled her hand back. "He's not a celebrity...at least not that I know of."

Her voice was muffled into the side of the couch, and her nose was pressed in an odd way against one of the cushions.

"What do you mean 'that you know of'?" After she didn't answer, Paulina took the cold water bottle she'd just gotten out of the fridge and rubbed it on Sam's leg, causing her to sit up quickly.

"I wasn't sleeping! I was thinking of a way to explain!" Sam snapped, cursing Paulina for her returned head rush.

"Then explain. If I'm throwing away seventeen months of wedding planning, you'd better have a damn good explanation."

Sam rolled her eyes again, something she found herself doing often around her. Paulina, thank God, wasn't her friend, though they had known each other for quite some time. Paulina Sanchez was hired by her mother as her wedding planner, thinking that it would be a good time for the two 'high school buddies' to catch up.

Sam hated Paulina in high school, and she hadn't exactly warmed up to her since then.

"It's your fault, by the way." Sam told her before continuing. "Last thing I remember is Club Baja, and you, Star and Trisha disappearing on the dance floor and leaving me at the table."

"With a tray of cosmos, which by the way were gone when we got back, as were you." Paulina huffed.

"Yeah," Sam remarked dryly. "Don't worry, I found all of us this morning."

Paulina wrinkled her nose and waved her on.

"Next thing I know, I'm waking up to your phone call in a bathtub in the Atheneum,"

"That was interrupted by you hanging up on—...sorry." Paulina turned to drink from the bottle after noticing Sam's glare.

"And then there's a half-naked man in the room with me, and yes, he was cute. Some conversation happens, next thing I know, I'm Mrs. Samantha Fenton."

"'Fenton'? That name sounds familiar." Paulina replied.

"It's also a town, Paulina. And yes, I'm going be getting very familiar with the name until I call my lawyer." Sam sighed, nestling her face between the pillow and the couch again.

"You mean your parents' lawyer. Which means that you are going to have to tell them. And you've got...nine hours and fifty- seven minutes to do so. I'd advise you to do it before the wedding and not during, but either way, I still get paid, _so..._"

Sam held up a hand to silence her, and she heard her footsteps going opposite her side of the room. She heard a faint noise, most likely Paulina, and decided to drown it out. After about ten minutes or so, she snapped.

"Would you shut up?"

She lifted her head to see Paulina busy with her Blackberry. "That was def. not me." Sam sat up as Paulina went to the window.

"Hey, Sam...what did you say your new hubby looked like?" Paulina inquired.

"I didn't." Sam yawned.

"But you said he was cute?"

Sam nodded. "He is."

"Blue eyes, dark hair about the same color as yours?"

Sam began to rise as suspicion built up inside of her. "Yes...Paulina, _what's outside that window_?"

"Mm...some cars, some trees, _your lover with your car and your wallet in hand_." Sam could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

Sam leapt up and rushed to the window to see, just as Paulina had said, her car, her wallet, and her new husband in possession of them.

"H-hey Sam! I got your address from your license! I brought your stuff!" He called up to her.

Sam didn't respond though, seeing as right behind Danny and her car, pulled up a familiar looking limousine. She bolted for the elevator as fast as she could and ignored Paulina's inquiries of where she was going. She thankfully made it down in record time, only to find that just as she was about to run out of the lobby doors, a redheaded woman stepped out.

"Who in the hell are you and what are you doing with Samantha's car?" she questioned sharply.

Sam, who was not in the best shape of her life, was too out of breath to stop him from answering.

"I'm kind of her husband, who are you?"

The woman took two reeling steps back and the driver's assistant had to catch her as she slumped to the ground. Sam finally caught her breath and breathily replied,

"She's my mother."


	3. The Original Gilmore Girl With a Twist

So sorry for the long wait, I had so much going on! The majority of this was ready about a month ago, I just had to put the finishing touches on it. The next chapter will hopefully not take this long.

Keyarrah

* * *

"Get. Into. The Limousine." Pamela Manson grit through nearly chattering teeth.

Her whole body, in fact, was on the verge of trembling since she'd come to about fifteen minutes before. Sam would never admit it, but her mother's flaming hair and reddening face made her a dead set match to a seizuring carrot in a pale blue Dior dress. The beauty squad for the wedding was tossed out of the limo, and Sam felt bad for them, especially for petite little Anabelle who'd dropped her eyeshadow palette in shock, littering the sidewalk in blues, pinks, purples and the sort.

Next out was the dress carrier—yes, that's correct, she said dress carrier. There was a person hired just to carry her wedding dress. Ridiculous, she knew.

"Were you getting married or inaugurated?" Danny hissed.

Sam just shot him a look. She wasn't exactly making any fan clubs for him right then.

After everyone was shoved out and told to head up to Sam's apartment because Paulina would know what to do with them, Pamela turned her emerald gaze to the pair of them.

"I said 'in'." She threw open the back door. She then made her way to the driver's door and spat, "Out!"

Murphy, her mother's chauffeur seemed confused, but scurried out of the way and to the side of his assistant nonetheless. Pamela sat in the driver's seat and rolled down the tinted window separating her from the two in the back, as she put her seatbelt on.

Sam, knowing her mother's driving skills, or lack thereof actually, buckled up, gestured for Danny to do the same, and then closed the door.

Pamela stared them down through the rearview mirror as Sam and Danny squirmed uncomfortably like two teenagers who'd just been caught.

"This had better be your idea of a practical joke, Samantha." Her mother seethed. "Because your father and I have almost three million dollars invested into this wedding."

Danny gave a hacking cough and leaned forward in shock, earning a disdainful look from Sam's mother as Sam, seemingly having gotten over her discomfort, simply sat back and crossed her arms defiantly.

"I don't know why. You'd think that I actually loved the guy or something."

"You don't?"

"You do!"

Danny and Pamela stared at Sam; Danny looked confused and Pamela looked furious.

"No, I don't." Sam told both of them in turn. "He's an idiotic, chauvinistic moron who spends most of his time looking in the mirror because he's also narcissistic, and if he calls me 'Samantha darling' one more time, I'm going to take his face and shove it up his—"

"Samantha Elizabeth Manson!"

"I'm sorry, Mother, you are absolutely right. What girl in their right mind wouldn't want not only a million, but _three_ thrown at her to marry an insufferable ass? You're right, I'm overreacting. Did he tell you that he plans to name our first son '_Otis_'?"

Pamela sniffed indignantly. "Otis is a wonderful name."

"For an old farm horse, maybe!" Sam bit angrily. "Besides, it's kind of illegal for me to marry him now. I didn't want to tell you this way, but now I think that I will. What the hell, I've already thrown caution to the wind once in the last twenty-four hours!"

"What are you talking about, Samantha? You sound drunk!" Pamela protested.

Sam mockingly laughed at the irony. Danny saw where this was going and began to quietly protest.

"Been there, done that, thrown up on the T-shirt fourteen times, Mother. By the way, did I mention that I got drunk and married this guy?" She forked her thumb toward him and glowered at her mother some more. "Because I kind of did."

All of the redness drained from Pamela's face as her eyes locked on something. Sam followed her mother's gaze to see that they had locked on the simple band on her finger that Paulina had just criticized. Perhaps she was a tad harsh?

"Uhm, hi? I'm Danny." Danny cleared his throat and extended his hand toward her. Pamela looked at it as if it were disease ridden.

"I do not care for your name, child." Pamela turned around to face the windshield, stiff as a board, with both hands clutching the steering wheel. "'Danny'? That's the name of a farm boy…" she muttered to herself deliriously.

"Ignore her," Sam muttered. "She's strung out on Zoloft, Norpramin, and probably one or two Lexapro."

Danny went to respond as the engine suddenly roared to life. Sam and Danny both looked forward hurriedly as they heard Pamela's racking sobs.

"Mom…maybe you shouldn't drive…" Sam warned, clutching her seatbelt. Pamela didn't seem to be listening to them as she turned up the radio, blaring John Mayer at them.

"Your mom is a Mayer fan?" Danny questioned as the limo lurched forward.

"Who in the hell knows?! MOM!" The last comment was once again directed at the woman in the front, who was now sobbing quite loudly.

"Mom, I'm sorry…it's a joke…Ha. Ha. Ha. Laugh, Mother!" Pamela turned teary and furious emerald eyes toward her pleading daughter, only to roll up the tinted glass between them and pull the limo into reverse, sending Danny and Sam further back into their seats.

"Why do I get the feeling that your mother can't drive?" Danny gulped.

"Because she can't, and we're going to die to 'Your Body is a Wonderland'! MOM!" Sam was hollering this time as the limo whipped out of its parking place and went barreling down the street. Sam unbuckled her seatbelt and rapped on the window, trying to get her mother's attention.

"_Belligerent child! Went off and married a stranger! After all I've done! After all I've planned!" _Pamela's voice came from the limousine's speaker system. She must not have realized that she was leaning on the button. _"A DAMNED FARMBOY?!" _

The car swerved and Sam was sent flying backward. Danny unbuckled his seatbelt and caught her right before she hit the floor. She blinked. What she'd seen in the hotel room apparently wasn't all there was to his amazing reflexes.

"_JUST WAIT UNTIL JEREMY HEARS ABOUT THIS!"_ They turned a sharp turn and they went jumbling about, Danny with his arms wrapped tightly around Sam to keep her from hitting her head. He however, had hit his head, and the champagne cooler wasn't the softest thing in the world.

"She's taking us to my parents' house. She must be going to tell Dad." Sam looked away, her discomfort returning with their faces so close.

"I get to meet your father, too?" Danny asked, wincing as they sat up after a nasty lurch.

"Yeah, let's hope you make a better impression on the next parent." Sam remarked dryly. Danny looked sheepish, and Sam tried to get her mother's attention again to no avail.

"How was I supposed to know she was your mother?" Danny asked, pulling them both up and back into the black leather seats.

The inside of the limo was dark with 'Manson' engraved near the doors in a neat golden script. Danny surveyed his surroundings for the first time since he was forced into the vehicle. It was incredibly nice, and although he'd had an idea that Sam had come from money upon meeting her, he had a feeling that he didn't know the least of it.

"Well, you weren't supposed to just _announce to strangers_ the fact that we got married." Sam argued, brushing her hair out of her face, giving him a glimpse of her wedding band. The movement of the limo was not helping her newly subdued nausea. If she threw up in her mother's favorite limousine, Pamela would have no one but herself to blame for it.

"You're a stranger and I'm married to you, so I don't see the big deal about letting other strangers…who turn out not to be strangers and to actually have maternal relation to you…in on the big secret." Danny rebuttaled.

Sam turned her attention away from her mother's reckless driving to the man sitting beside her. She stared him down before she questioned,

"How are you able to say that so easily? It's like it just rolls off the tongue. Did you go around telling people we were married on the way over or something? Did you…did you practice it? Because I can't seem to say it for the life of me unless I'm screaming at my psychotic mother or trying to explain to that dunderhead Paulina!"

Danny returned the look of confusion she gave him before shrugging. "I don't know. I guess it is what it is. We got married."

"How are you so calm about this?" Sam demanded to know. "This is a life altering thing, you know. We're married. As in…if one of us dies or something in the next thirty seconds, which is quite possible given the current situation, the other gets all their stuff and…a whole bunch of other legal crap!"

Danny shrugged at her again, something he did so much that Sam believed was going to drive her mad. "I know that. But there's not as if there's something that we can do about it right this second. We're going to get this annulled, which could possibly take awhile. What's the use in getting all worked up when it isn't going to resolve anything."

Sam stared him down. "Are you a freaking life coach or something?"

Danny shook his head, "No, I'm a—"

The vehicle suddenly made another sharp turn and whipped up a long winding drive before screeching to a halt. Danny looked out of the window and his eyes met a large white mansion. It had a flowing gorgeous green lawn with perfect flowers lining the sides of the house as if it had been taken out of _Home & Garden_. The windows seemed to arch up to the sky from where he was down below, and through what seemed to be the kitchen window, he could barely make out hustling and bustling figures in uniform. There was a woman dressed in a white chef's outfit taking out the trash on one side of the gargantuan house while on the other side, there was a hefty woman in a maid's uniform chasing after a white dog crying out, "No, Flippy! No! Not on the begonias!"

Danny turned to Sam in awe. "You live here?"

Sam made a disgusted face at his question and turned toward the other window. "No, I live where we just came from. This however is the hellhole that I was raised in. Welcome to the Manson Manor."

Pamela, ever the impatient one, wasted no time in leaving the limousine, leaving Sam and Danny with the unspoken cue to do the same. Sam followed Pamela, and led Danny through the large white doors that were the entrance. As Danny walked in, his awe did not cease.

A large spiraling staircase went up what appeared to be several stories above, and the gorgeous oak wood floors were being waxed by a brunette girl who looked to be younger than them. The smell of pastries and food that just by scent Danny could tell were too rich for his palette wafted in probably from the kitchen. Danny's senses were in a thousand different places in the wonderful house.

Next to him, Sam put a hand on his shoulder. "I know it's overbearing and it's a bit much to take in, I'm sorry."

Danny shook his head, still marveling at the perfection of the house. If he didn't know any better he'd swear it was a television show set. "No…no. It's…wow. This place is wow. You lived here?"

Sam told him yes, and he noticed for the first time that Pamela had disappeared. Sam led him into what could be called a living room if most of the things didn't look as if they belonged in a museum. The couches were pristine and white, and the carpet was a lush caramel color.

"JEREMY!" could be heard from somewhere in the distance, sending Sam into another fit of frustrated sighing.

"You might as well sit. This could take awhile." Danny was absolutely baffled by her disinterest in the house, until he remembered that she had actually _lived_ there. She'd grown up here and seen what he was seeing everyday.

Still baffled, awestruck and mesmerized, Danny's attention was captured by a petite redhead in ripped lime green skinny jeans, and a violet tanktop shuffling her ratty Converses on the carpet. As she approached, Danny noticed that her left eyebrow was pierced, and from her amethyst eyes (which currently looked bored) he had a feeling that she was somehow related to his new bride.

"Way to put us in the poor house, Sammy." The teen girl smirked.

Sam only cast a bothered look toward the girl before muttering, "Shut up, Lynne."

The girl only continued to shuffle toward them, making each step purposeful as she scuffed marks into the otherwise perfect carpet. Her hair flounced behind her as she made her way toward Sam, her childish smirk still in place. As the girl known as Lynne approached Sam, he noticed that they did indeed look alike. Lynne could have possibly been a younger version of Sam with red hair.

"I'm just saying," the younger girl replied. "Mom's upstairs having a royal flipout, Daddy's probably on his way down, and I'm honestly just a bit grateful that I don't have to wear that excuse for a dress."

Lynne then turned to Danny and replied, "It was ugly. Really ugly. And blue. Really ugly and blue. So thank you for impregnating my sister and then having a shotgun wedding."

Danny gave his second hacking cough of the morning, causing Sam to first whip her head toward him and then to her sister.

"She's not pregnant!…are you?" Danny asked cautiously.

Sam threw him a wicked glare, his question obviously **not** adding to her dislike of him in that moment. "I woke up in a bathtub less than four hours ago, Casanova. So unless your _magic_ works that well, no, I'm not."

"A bathtub? Naughty. And besides, I'm only saying what everyone else is going to think, you know." Lynne smirked, winking at Danny. Sam growled something at her sister, which might or might not have been in English.

"Well, I see that Samantha's new friend has met every family member excluding myself." A tall blonde man made his way from the bottom of the large staircase, a thick leather-bound book in his hands. "Hello, I'm Jeremy Manson."

Danny stood to greet him with an extended hand and Lynne wasted no time in stealing his seat. "Daniel Fenton, sir."

Jeremy was only a little taller than Danny, who stood at 6'2. The Manson father stood tall in his grey polo shirt, khaki pants and plain brown dress shoes. His blonde hair was combed back neatly in a hairstyle that Danny thought to be very 'Happy Days' worthy. The man's demeanor seemed friendly, much more than Danny could say about his wife, whom he could still vaguely hear wailing through the house.

"Daniel," Jeremy nodded, taking Danny's hand he gave him a brief smile, "that's a strong-sounding name. I like it."

"Thank you, sir." Danny seemed nervous, but Sam could hardly blame him after the way he'd met her mother. …Speaking of her mother, where was she?

"Dad, where's Mom?" Lynne took the words right out of her mouth.

Sam attempted to yank Lynne out of Danny's seat after Jeremy gestured for him to sit, to no avail, forcing Danny and Sam to sit together on the loveseat that Sam had sat down upon. She wasn't sure why it bugged her suddenly, but it did.

"Ah, your mother…your mother is cancelling a few events that we'd had planned for the evening." Sam and Danny shared a look as they both dully noted that Jeremy's slight smile did not falter as he explained Mrs. Manson's whereabouts. He was obviously the least upset about the situation, other than Sam of course.

"Dad, I—" Jeremy cut off his eldest daughter, placing the book in his lap.

"I expected something to 'come up', so I'm not perturbed in the slightest, Samantha." He smiled warmly at her before chuckling to himself. "I never expected you to beat your mother to the punch though. Getting married before she could marry you off? Original."

Sam reddened and looked ready to launch into another explanation when Lynne rolled her eyes and flounced her body to the other arm of the chair so that she was face-to-face with Danny.

"I'm Lynne, the good sister. You know, the one who doesn't run off and elope. Sister of Sam, who _has_ eloped and might or might not be pregnant with your lovechild…you know, if your '_magic_' does runs deep into bathtubs and such."

"I'm not quite sure that I follow…" Jeremy replied. "According to your mother, you've just met this gentleman last night."

"Well, I did, that's—"

"_Dirty whore!_" Lynne coughed.

"…­­—why I'm **not** pregnant, and Lynne is just a sixteen-year-old brat."

Lynne scoffed and flipped over so that she was upside down and Sam and Danny could see up her nose. "I'm almost seventeen, thank youuu."

Jeremy looked on in amusement as she continued. "And just for that, _you_ aren't invited to my birthday, but your husband is! It's in exactly fourteen days, meaning two weeks, meaning May 30th. And after my epically sick party, Fi and me, she's my best friend, are going to the NeverShoutNever! concert in Denver."

"If your mother is still willing to chaperone." Jeremy interjected.

"She will!" Lynne sat up sharply. "If this whole wedding thing ruins my epic planning, I'm going to have to kill you in your sleep." She casually told her sister.

"Lovely. I doubt she'd go with you anyway after what happened at that 3OH!3 concert." Sam informed, just realizing that she'd left her cellphone at her apartment.

"Ugh. That wasn't fair! She made me leave early because during 'Don't Trust Me', some idiot grabbed her hips and told her to do the Helen Keller. How was I supposed to know she'd end up in a mosh pit with people shouting 'Don't trust a ho!'? I'm not her keeper!"

The conversation stopped short as Pamela's wails became audible once more. They weren't as sorrowful as melodramatic sounding, giving Sam images of a carrot in pain.

"Well, it seems that your mother is finished. Daniel, it was nice to meet you. Take care, Sammy. Lynne, don't linger here long after you aren't wanted, dear." Jeremy advised, kissing the tops of his daughters' heads before walking away.

The three of them sat in silence as Sam adjusted to the proximity of she and Danny, and Lynne silently texted away on her phone until it let out a 'ding', causing her to squeal excitedly.

Danny winced and turned to Sam. "Didn't really picture her to be the squealing type."

Sam smiled wryly and remarked, "My family is a lot of things that you wouldn't exactly picture them to be."

Lynne leapt up without another word as the sound of heels coming down the staircase came nearer. Sam grunted something along the lines of 'little chicken'.

Pamela waltzed in without a glance to either of them as she sat in the chair that her husband had been in before her.

"Why, Samantha?" Pamela questioned without emotion, "Why can't you just leave well enough alone?"

Sam said nothing, she just sat silently; still and unmoving.

"I planned something _phenomenal_ for you, Samantha. Oh, it was gorgeous. _Exquisite_. And then you just…you just threw it all away with this—this—this **boy**."

Sam was actually very grateful that Danny wasn't saying anything, because she had a feeling that if he did something was going to happen. She didn't know what, but she just knew that something was going to happen. She willed herself not to think it, least she foreshadow something bad. Concentrating on her mother, she realized that she'd still been speaking.

"—and thank God he's at least suitable to look at. What the girls are going to say at the country club…I don't know, oh, God I don't know. I just…well, it goes without saying that it's a damn good thing you didn't elope with a Black man, or God-forbid a Hispanic."

"Hey!" Sam snapped, growing irate of her mother's ridiculousness. "And what if he were? Besides that, Paulina's Hispanic and you seem to like her just fine."

Pamela tutted just as Danny remarked quietly, "My girlfriend's Black."

Sam and Pamela turned to Danny in shock. "You have a girlfriend?" Sam questioned slowly.

"You have a fiancé." Danny countered.

"I _had_ a fiancé." Sam backfired.

"Well then, I _had _a girlfriend." Danny rebuttaled.

Sam and Danny stared at each other for a moment before Pamela groaned, "Oh, Christ. Someone intoxicate me. Juanita! A vodka twist!"

Sam and Danny looked away from each other to see a stout little Hispanic woman rush a tall glass out to Pamela who was currently seated with her head dramatically thrown into her arm which hanging limply off the side of the chair. Her free hand made a painfully pathetic grab toward the glass.

"Gracias, senorita. I love you." Pamela replied throatily, before taking a large gulp.

"I thought your mother didn't like Hispanics," Danny whispered.

"She does when they bring her liquor." Sam whispered back.

Danny and Sam sat quietly for a moment before they broke out into smiles. "So, a girlfriend?" Sam wondered, smiling.

"Of African-American descent." Danny smiled back, watching out of the corner of his eye as Pamela did all but suck the glass dry. "And a fiancé?"

"Of the royal jackass descent." Sam nodded, also watching her mother. "So what do we do now that the worst might just be over?"

Danny pondered for a moment, part of his bangs falling into his gorgeous blue eyes. "Hi, I'm Danny Fenton, and I think we're married. I'm also kind of scared of your family."

Sam held in her laughter at his attempt at a formal introduction, and accepted the hand he extended to her. "Nice to meet you. I'm Sam Manson…or rather Fenton now, and yes, I do think that we are in fact married. As for my family, as you can see, I'm the original Gilmore Girl...with a twist."

"Right," Danny replied quietly. "Now can we please get out of here?"

Sam readily accepted, threw a quick goodbye at her mother, and off they went toward the limo that would take them back to Sam's apartment.

'_No,' _Sam thought to herself as her father's driver pulled off. _'That didn't go bad at all…'_

The driver rolled down the window at Sam's request as she felt the nausea begin to hit again. "Married..." the mouthed to the wind.

Well, at least she was saying it.


	4. Three Charmed Strike Out

Hey everyone, words cannot beging to express just how sorry I am that this was out so late. I had computer problems for about a month that still haven't been solved yet, so I'm actually writing this whole chapter inside the 'Document Preview', so if anything looks a bit...odd, that would be why. In other news that you all might just like, the link for the 'TSAC II' website is actually on my profile page now! Yes, it's up and running. There is a catch though—there are passwords on some of the pages, limiting you to only a few. There will be more added to the website as the fic gets updated (which will be sooner rather than later), and the passwords will be given out in upcoming chapters!

Also, there are 'C'est la Vie' character pictures on my profile. Take a look!

Still so sorry about the delay,

Keyarrah

* * *

Sam stared out of the window of the limousine, breathing deep nausea-wracked breathes until they'd hit somewhere around the freeway. Danny seemed lost in his own world and Sam though it better not to disturb him. He'd been subjected to enough for one day. She had to admit that she was rather impressed by him and the way that he'd handled everything throughout the day. She could honestly say that she didn't know many people who could take on all three of her family members at once; even she grew tired of her over-exaggerating mother, eccentric sister, and sometimes annoyingly non-plussed father, but Danny stayed strong. If she was going to say anything to him, she knew it would have to be that.

"You were awesome today. I owe you one, I really do." she informed him softly, turning to him fully.

Danny looked slightly confused before questionably replying, "Thanks?"

Sam smiled, "What's wrong? Not sure how to take a compliment?"

Her joking expression quickly sobered as Danny failed to even crack a smile. He was lost in his own world again and Sam was starting to wonder. Had she said something wrong? Oh great, her mother had probably offended him with that remark about his girlfriend, and now he probably thought horrible things about her, and he'd never want to see her again! She didn't care, he didn't know her! ...But that would be hard since they were married. Yes...they were married. Married were they, yes.

Oh God, she'd said 'married' again. She needed to stop that before she turned into one of those people who couldn't stop and went around dinner parties chirping, 'Have you met my **husband**? 'Cause I'm _**married**._' What was she mentally freaking out about again? She seriously needed to stop before 'breathing mode' was necessary.

Back in real time after returning from the scary possibility of the latter, Sam grew anxious.

"Hey, I get that the whole 'awkward silence' thing is normal after the whole 'accidental marriage' thing, but I was under impression that we had somehow glided right past that..."

"No!" Danny quickly responded, sending a weird wave of rejection through Sam, "I mean, yes, as funny as it is now that you mention it, we are. I'm just—I just—I'm sorry."

"Me too?" Sam guessed, confused as ever. "Did one of the maids offer you a drink? Because I swear they drug my mother!"

Finally, Danny laughed. "No, no. I'm sorry. It's just...well, are you sure you owe me one? 'Cause I have something to tell you."

Sam raised an eyebrow and immediately her thoughts went in many different directions, including a few directions that they'd already taken. Was this whole marriage just a sham for her money? No, of course not, what a shallow thought. He'd seemed genuinely surprised when he'd entered into her parents' home, meaning that he hadn't know just how rich she was. (Her net worth alone was equal to if not more than the Hilton sisters combined) Was this about his job? He'd been interrupted before he could actually tell her what it was that he did for a living. She couldn't possibly ask him now though, especially if it was what he was going to tell her.

She'd seem like an elitist snob asking about something like that after he'd just been in her luxurious childhood home. Dare she even consider the horrible embarrassment she'd put him through in asking only to find out he was a janitor at Nasty Burger? She would hate for that to happen. Unless it wasn't that type of job. He could be something totally different like...like...a mobster. He was a mobster, she was sure of it. The reflexes, the muscles, the way he suddenly went all cold on her. That damn Paulina probably put a hit out on her. Dolce and Gabbana wearing son of a—

"Uhm, okay. Good something or bad something?"

Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I'm not sure how to say this. I guess it depends on how you feel about this sort of thing."

Yeap, she was going to die. "If you're going to shoot me, don't go for the face. My mother is bound to want an open-casket affair." she told him, only half-joking.

Danny laughed, "If that's what you're thinking, what I have to say is definitely a good thing."

Sam mentally chastised herself. A mobster, really? This whole marriage thing—damnit, she said it again—was really taking a toll on her. Out of nowhere she'd developed the imagination of a sixteen-year-old on espresso shots. God, she needed a nap.

"Okay, so what is it?" Sam questioned.

"There's kind of a reason that I brought up Valerie," Danny began. Sam interrupted.

"Who?"

"My girlfriend," Danny explained. "Her name is Valerie. Valerie Gray."

"...Ah. Oh...kay. Continue."

"So yeah, there's a reason. I don't know how to put this. She wants to meet you."

In a handful of books that Sam had read in her lifetime, she'd come across the expression 'their eyes went as wide as saucers'. Sam had always found the expression to be foolish and incredibly exaggerated until just then, because just then she was almost positive that her eyes had reached fine china status.

"She wants to what?" Sam sputtered.

"She wants to meet you. I know it sounds incredibly awkward and I feel awkward even asking you to consider it now, but I spoke to her earlier today in the hotel and she was incredibly persistent. I felt it was the least I can do since I kind of got married to another woman, which obviously, is a big relationship 'no-no', which is why she and I ended things today since I'd really rather prefer not to be a cheater all the way around and—"

Sam slapped her hand over his mouth and nodded slowly. "Yes, Danny. I will meet your now ex-girlfriend, Valerie. Yes, Danny, it is going to be awkward since yes, Danny, you did marry another woman, which again, yes, Danny is a big relationship 'no-no'. Now are we going to keep rattling on and giving Sam more of a hangover headache? No, Danny, no we are not, or so help me God, I'll throw up on you."

Danny simply nodded his head as if to say that he understood and Sam took her hand off of his mouth. "Sorry. The cosmos are still in my system and according to the wedding band on my finger, liquor makes me a tad rambunctious. So, yeah. Give the driver the directions and I guess we're in for our second meet and greet of the day."

Danny gave a ragged sigh before making his way to the window before him to tell the driver where to go.

* * *

The drive to Valerie's apartment wasn't too far. It was actually in Amity Park, the town two or three over from Sam's. Danny's parents apparently lived here, and this was the town where Danny had grown up. Sam only knew this as the town with the most spectral activity in America. It was because of this town that Michigan was nearly overflowing with ghosts. Sam wasn't a believer of things that went bump in the night, such as goblins, vampires, werewolves, witches and the like, but ghosts...ghosts were real.

Amity Park was a natural tourist site, gathering those enthralled by the idea of seeing the supernatural and those who were critics of the sightings. Even as they drove by now she could see people ooh-ing and ahh-ing over something that she couldn't see from where they were, with their cameras clicking non-stop.

The driver finally stopped in front of a white Stony-brook apartment, and Danny cleared his throat. "Alright, this is it. Are you ready?"

Sam nodded and couldn't contain a smirk. Danny said it as if he were preparing her for battle. Yes, obviously the woman would be angry, but as sweet as Danny was, he wouldn't date an absolute psycho, she was sure. On the way over she'd dismissed hangover-induced dayscares about being attacked by an angry Black girl with a scary blunt object. She was less than relaxed at the fact that there would probably be some words, but after the explanation, she was sure that everything would smooth over.

Sam hadn't even noticed that Danny had opened the door of the limo and was extending a hand to help her out until he spoke her name a couple of times. Finally setting her head back on straight, she accepted it and followed him into the building. They went up one flight of stairs before Danny came to a red door. He took out a key and opened the door slowly glancing at Sam reassuringly. Sam was unsure however, just which of them he was reassuring.

As soon as the door opened, there stood an African-American woman with black wavy hair and green eyes. She was wearing a green waffle print shirt that matched her eyes and black jeans that hugged her curves. She could see why Danny was—or rather had been with her, she was beautiful. She was barefoot, which wasn't unusual since it was her home they were currently standing in. What was unusual however, was the first thing that she said.

"So, you're the whore who married my boyfriend. Funny, you're not as ugly and/or whore-like as I would have presumed."

"Valerie!" Danny snapped as though unsurprised, closing the door behind them. So this was why she was prepped for battle, he was dating a freaking battle ax!

Sam just gaped at her, stuck between not knowing what to say and not believing what the other had just.

"Uhm. Oh. You must be Valerie." Sam finally spoke, sounding so stupid to her own ears that she didn't want to think about what she'd sounded like to his ex-girlfriend. She extended her hand helplessly.

"And you're Sam Manson, or legally Sam **Fenton** since you married my boyfriend. Again, not as ugly as I would have presumed. Most Sam's I know have bucked teeth." Valerie replied coolly, staring her extended hand down.

Sam's hand fell to her side and she quickly ran her tongue over her front teeth self-consciously. Danny stepped in again. "Seriously, Val? We talked about this."

Valerie rolled her eyes sky high before setting them back upon Sam, who despite her natural instinct to squirm, did her best to hold her ground. "Talk. That's all you ever do, Danny, is talk. And for once, you take action, and it isn't even with me!" she glared, finally looking at him.

"Val, you have every right to be upset, but you have no right to take it out on Sam!" Danny fought back.

So maybe Sam was wrong, maybe Danny would date a psycho. Perhaps he considered her to be one of those 'hot but crazies' guys were always talking about taking a chance on?

Her murderous gaze didn't stay on Danny for long and she turned back to Sam accusingly. "_Sam_. I have no right to take it out on _Sam_? Did you know that Daniel Fenton wasn't always the _commitment and relationship_ type, _Sam_? It took me forever to talk him into taking a chance on us and turning a friendship into a relationship, _Sam_! And THEN after four and a half years of what I believed was a wonderful relationship, I brought up marriage and children last night. Do you know what he did, _Sam_?"

"Val—" Danny tried to interrupt.

"HE FREAKED THE HELL OUT, _SAM_!" Valerie screamed, throwing her hands up into the air. By this point she was halfway across the room, coming dangerously close to a rack of what seemed to be mock-china plates. "He tells me that I _'know about how difficult life is for him already' _and how he _'doesn't believe that our relationship is stable enough for a marriage and children yet' _after FOUR YEARS!" she exclaimed to Sam.

"Valerie—" He failed.

"So I told him that I didn't want to marry him anyway, and that I wouldn't even if he paid me. Danny decides to **storm out**! Next thing I know, it's early morning, and I'm getting a phone call from who else but Danny telling me that somehow throughout the night he got drunk and he married _Sam_, who ironically is supposed to get married!"

By this point, Sam was getting sick of her own name, and Danny was getting sick of trying.

"So damnit, Danny, damn right I have 'every right to be mad', and I'm mad as hell! And you have no right to tell me who and who not to take anything out on! You can both have your honeymoon in Hell for all I care! And you, _Sam, _are a stupid, cheating, homewrecking slut who obviously has a thing for weddings!"

Sam felt as though she'd been kicked in the gut, which surprised her because she didn't even know this woman. Did it hurt because it was true?

"That's enough, Valerie. You see why we weren't stable enough to take a relationship to the next level? Because you have the emotional capacity of a five-year-old!" Danny grimaced throatily. He put an arm around Sam's shoulder and began to lead her out of the apartment.

"Have a nice life together!" Valerie spat as they turned to exit.

"We will!" Danny called back, and with that they left the building.

As Danny and Sam made their way back to the limo, Danny apologized profusely a thousand times over. Sam, who was still recovering from the low blow delivered by Valerie, simply took his apologies in stride and climbed into the back of the vehicle. As Danny joined her, the driver rolled down the window in front of them.

"Miss. Manson, a moment if you please?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. What is it?" she questioned, although she wasn't in any particular mood to be chatty.

"Your mother has called the car phone several times since you departed. She is actually on the line at this moment. Would you like to speak with her?"

Sam internally groaned. She should have known she'd gotten away far too easily. That drink was probably setting in and Pamela Manson was known to think straighter with a few drinks in her.

"She says it's urgent." The driver informed. Sam gave a sigh of defeat and nodded, picking up the phone nearest her in the back, as Danny threw her another apologetic glance and mouthed that he was 'so sorry'. She waved him off.

"Yes, Mother?" she answered.

"Samantha! Thank heavens I've finally gotten a hold of you! It was very important that I got a hold of you before they did. Oh, I'm so glad that I got a hold of you!" Pamela rambled.

"Mom, you sound redundant. Who is 'they'?" Sam questioned, suddenly suspicious.

"The Cains, Samantha! Adam's mother and father and he are so very upset with what's happened. They're demanding a proper explanation and I simply couldn't tell them of your embarrassing faux pas, honestly, how would that look? So I've made up...a story."

"'A story'? You mean a lie, Mom. You made up a lie. What did you say?" Sam questioned tiredly, clearly not interested in her mother's theatrics just then.

"I told them that you'd fallen in love with someone else! I said that your passion was too fiery to ignore and that you'd eloped with an heir!" Pamela spit out.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Sam cried, earning worried glances from Danny and the driver.

"You married a farm boy, Samantha! What was I supposed to do, just let you roll around with the pigs on his Kansas farm?!" Pamela asked indignantly. "I should think not!"

"Fine, Mother. So you lied to the Cains, and you were worried about them getting to me before you did because I had no idea of your ludicrous lie. I get it. Is that all?" Sam asked.

"No, dear, it isn't. I'm afraid that the banquet hall and the caterers are non-refundable." she informed her daughter.

"I'm so sorry. Anything else?" Sam sighed.

All Sam wanted to do now was to curl up in her bed and sleep. She felt as if she'd been through Hell and back (which was probably good of her to check out seeing as she was supposedly honeymooning there with her new husband) and she was mentally, physically, and dare she say especially intestinally (throwing up takes a lot out of a girl) exhausted and she refused to pretend for three seconds that she gave two flying craps about one thing that her mother was saying. Oh, great. She was doing math now, and she'd only gotten to six. Was it safe to say that it wasn't her day yet, or was she still supposed to be maintaining a 'glass half full' mentality?

"No, dear, you don't understand. It's non-refundable but not non-rescheduable." Pamela explained hurriedly.

Something dawned on Sam and it wasn't a nice something. "...What are you saying, Mother?"

"Tomorrow, you and your new beau, the farm boy, are to be ready at 6 PM sharp for your coming out party." Pamela told her matter-of-factly.

Sam just sat there, dumbstruck. A good two minutes had gone by before Pamela questioned, "Samantha? Samantha, why aren't you saying anything?"

"Because I'm trying to figure out if I can legally trap you in a home, and if I could which ones have enough vicodin to keep you quiet..." Sam muttered darkly.

Danny's eyes widened slightly, and he looked a bit frightened of his new wife. Sam hung up the phone in frustration and turned to him.

"How'd you like to make a third introduction? This one might be the hardest of them all." Sam sighed tiredly.

"Adam?" Danny guessed. Sam nodded. "Well, third time's the charm."

"Or three strikes you're out. Either way we look at this, we're screwed." Sam replied, curling up into herself on the seat.

She didn't care anymore right then, she was going to sleep. Sam would need all of the energy she could get if she was going to deal with George, Portia, and Adam Cain, along with all of the guests from the wedding that never was. With one last look at Danny as the driver began to pull from out in front of Valerie's apartment, she silently wondered if it was too late to just pretend as if it had never happened. Tomorrow could go no other way but disastrous, and she knew that 'breathing mode' was definitely necessary now.

* * *

Don't forget to check out the character pictures and tell me what you all think!


	5. The Reunited Memory Front

_Sam sat at a festive looking table as the music pounded around her, momentarily pushing the dread that she was feeling out of her head. Next to her sat Paulina Sanchez, someone whose company had been forced upon her in the last few months. Paulina was a wedding planner which meant that yes, Sam would be getting married. This fact would explain why the girls, who consisted of Paulina, Star, and Trisha, were currently dancing around in their seats singing, _

"_She's getting married in the morning! Can't you hear the church bells ring—"_

_Suddenly a familiar beat blasted through Club Baja and the three girls surrounding her squealed and proclamations of, "This is my __**song**__!" and "Ohhhhh yeah!" were heard as the three of them left her at the table without another thought. Sam stared after them in boredom. On one hand she was deliriously happy that they hadn't dragged her out onto the dance floor again. _

_The last time they'd done so, she'd been groped over twenty times, and only one-fourth of the time was it being done by a male. She did feel slightly jilted as their retreating figures scurried over to the DJ in their expensive heels and Hollywood party dresses. She was being abandoned at her own bachelorette party. _

_Don't get her wrong, these types of parties were not her thing at all…actually, no type of party was her thing at all. She wasn't your typical heiress; she definitely defeated the stereotype of being a party girl. She in fact, didn't even want to come to her own bachelorette party…or maybe that's because she didn't want to get married at all? _

'_Another story for another time__,' she thought boredly as a cute brunette waiter with brown eyes and dimples brought a tray over to her table. _

_No, it was just the fact that she was being abandoned. She pushed the lonely feeling away and reminded herself that she hadn't even wanted to be there in the first place._

"_Paulina ordered these before," the waiter explained. Sam nodded and watched as he put a tray of hot pink drinks in front of her._

_Of course, give Paulina fifteen minutes and she'd have the waiter knowing her name, and finding drinks in the color Sam hated, so why did she expect anything less when she'd in fact given her two whole hours and thirty-seven minutes? _

_At Sam's raised eyebrows at the tray in front of her he replied, "Cosmopolitans." Sam nodded as if she understood. Before three seconds ago, 'Cosmopolitan' was a magazine. Sam really wouldn't know, she didn't drink. _

_Paulina made her way over, still moving her body to the pulsating beat of the music. She skillfully turned and grabbed a drink and made her way back to the dance floor shouting over her shoulder, "Drink one! It'll make you feel better!" _

_Sam simply stared at the brown plastic tray and toyed with a lei as she considered her options. Where eight drinks were, now_ _stood seven and the glasses were kind of full. Sam also couldn't ignore the fact that it was pink. The drink was freaking hot pink! Did she want to ingest something like that and have her insides glow the same color? _

_Then again, she was marrying a pompous idiot in the morning, whom she was expected to live the rest of her life with while he cheated on her with several women leaving her and poor Otis (Don't ask…please don't ask…) to live in resentment. And everyday, she would look into her young son's eyes that matched her own as he asked her, "Seriously? Why aren't you drunk already?"_

_Sam blinked twice and realized that it wasn't young Otis asking her that, it was her own damn self demanding to know why she wasn't drunk already. _

"_To Hell with it," she decided aloud. She clutched a glass carefully and sipped with her eyes closed. The drink was room temperature but it was oddly warm going down. She wasn't sure whether this was a normal drink reaction or whether it was because of her nerves and drinking inexperience. All she knew…was that she __**liked**__ it. _

_One drink turned into two and two turned into three, which eventually turned into seven…in five minutes. How the lei she'd been toying with had gotten wrapped around her hand, she didn't know. Better yet, she didn't care!_

_The girls were still shaking it on the dance floor and from the looks of it, Trisha found a new boy toy. Her boyfriend of six years probably wouldn't be happy about that but __oh well__…not her problem right then. Actually, nothing and no one was her problem right then._

_Sam was practically floating as she got up, suddenly far too hot and bothered to be sitting at the Hawaiian decorated table alone. To make sure that she wasn't actually in fact floating, she looked at her feet carefully. Nope, she and her sexy shoes were still on the ground!_

"_Yay!" she whispered to no one in particular. _

_She made her way halfway across the club when she somehow wound up at the bar. She wondered when and how she'd gotten there when she saw the pink drinks the bartender was mixing._

"_Ah…I have been summoned." she murmured, slightly tipsy. _

_For someone who'd never drank before, she was actually surprised that she was still somewhat sober. No doubt that she'd gotten this heavyweight drinking from her mother. If this thing with Adam didn't work out, alcoholism was practically calling her._

_Speaking of calling her, her new pink and fuzzy-feeling friend was practically sending out smoke signals. She ordered a Cosmo and sat there sipping it, when she noticed the guy next to her give a disgruntled sigh. His back was turned away from her and he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off his nicely toned body. The first thing that she noticed however, was his hair…his sexy, sexy black hair. It wasn't at all like Adam's greasy slicked down blonde hair, and she and her friend Cosmo wanted to brush their fingers through it. _

_Sam stopped herself mid-sip. Okay, so she was a provocative drunk. There you go, learn something new about yourself everyday._

"_Yes, Tucker. I'm fine. We just got into an argument. You can tell her to stop calling everyone and their grandmothers wondering where I am. I just went out for some air." The sexy haired man explained in annoyance. He had a nice neck too. There was even a little freckle on the back of it._

"_As my best friend," he continued, seemingly interrupting this 'Tucker' on the other end. "I'm asking you to butt out and ignore Valerie's phone calls, okay? It's complicated. Bye."_

_He hung up the phone and turned forward, giving Sam a really good look at him. He was handsome with blue eyes and a troubled expression. _

"_Vodka straight up." He ordered, and the bartender nodded and turned toward the bottles to the left of him to make his request. It didn't take long and within a minute the man next to her was absentmindedly sliding his drink back and forth across the bar in front of him in between the occasional throw back of the glass. _

_Sam, who was even more infatuated with her hot pink friend more than ever before turned to him curiously. "Are you okay? You don't seem happy." She said, beginning a conversation in a way that was completely uncharacteristic for her._

_He looked around for a moment before looking at her and realizing that she was in fact, speaking to him. "Oh, me. No, not really." He smiled awkwardly, and even though it wasn't genuine it was still adorable. _

"_I'm Sam," she introduced, placing her drink on the bar and extending a hand. _

"_I'm Danny." He said. He went to shake her hand and sent her Cosmo flying to the ground. _

_As Sam watched the glass shatter in horror…_

…her eyes flew open.

Sam sat straight up and immediately realized three things. One, that that right there was no dream. Two, she was no longer curled up in the limo, and that it was obviously the next day since the sun was rudely shining in her eyes. Three,…Danny told Valerie that they would be happy together, and she now had reason to fear for her life.

She also immediately noticed that her headache and nausea inspired feeling of impending doom was absolutely gone, bringing her back to the dream…or memory rather.

Just when she was ready to go to sleep and pretend that it had never happened, **this **had to have happened. Sam groaned irritably and fell backward only to violently bang her head against the headboard.

She was unsure whether it was caused by the stress of the oncoming day, the fact that she still hadn't had a chance to shower and was still in her bachelorette party attire (minus the lei), or the fact that her head was throbbing after she mentally boasted about her headache being gone like a fool, but Samantha…Whatever-in-the-world-people-were-choosing-her-last-name-to-be-these-days, let out a very angry, very loud, and very long stream of curses sending Danny of all people, running into her room.

"Are you okay?" he asked, worriedly. His new wife's usual cool and calm exterior demeanor suddenly had a few cracks in it.

Sam stared at him blankly, the question causing déjà vu to hit her in waves.

Maybe this was all a dream. Or maybe she was hallucinating. …Maybe she had in fact become an alcoholic and this was just one of her nightly crazy sprees. …Maybe she needed to bang her head again.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What are you doing here?" She wondered. Danny instantly looked sheepish.

"Well, you were gone to the world last night," Danny explained, confirming Sam's belief that it was the next day, "So I asked the driver to go to your place, and I carried you up here and your doorman recognized you and let me in, so I tucked you into your bed and kind of crashed on your couch. I hope that's okay."

Sam nodded slowly. "Yes, it's fine." She glanced over at the black and silver digital clock to see that it was only 8:04 AM.

She was seconds away from asking Danny how he'd slept when his head whipped toward the door. Confused, Sam arched to see what he was turning toward.

"Someone's here." Danny murmured more to himself than to her, but she caught on. Sam strained to hear anything, but didn't. Finally after a minute or two, her front door was heard opening. So he also had great hearing…

High heels were heard noisily but steadily making their way toward them as Sam heard her name being called shrilly. She groaned, but refrained from falling backward, remembering what happened the last time all too well.

"Sam! There you a—…Oh. …_Oh_…" Paulina nodded, smirking. "You do move fast, I'll give you that Manson. Or, I'm sorry, what was your name again?" she asked Danny.

"Danny Fenton." Danny answered warily.

"Right. Fenton. Samantha Elizabeth Fenton doesn't have quite the ring to it as Samantha Elizabeth Cain, but maybe that ring I'm hearing is the $2 million dollar diamond engagement ring that the Cains would like back. Hint, hint, Sammy-girl."

Sam rolled her eyes and slid out of bed to fetch the ring from a nearby drawer. They could have it, she didn't wear it anyway. She'd worn it a grand total of twice and only because she was forced to by her mother because it was an 'important event'. While on the subject of important events…

"By the way, your dress and your tux are in the living room. Versace and Tommy Hilfigure, respectably of course. You're welcome."

"Thank you?" Danny seemed unsure, obviously still not used to all that was Paulina. "Well, I should be going, I guess I'll be back here around six and we'll leave together tonight?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, that'd be fine, unless you'd rather me pick you up."

Danny shook his head. "No, I can manage. Bye Sam. Bye…"

"Paulina." Paulina filled in. "Goodbye, Danny Fenton."

Danny left, still giving her a wary look. It wasn't until the front door closed that Paulina squealed. "Ooh! Gossip, honey! So he spent the night? He still wanted you after you've been in the same clothes for two days? Brave man. Cute and very brave man."

Sam rolled her eyes. "It wasn't like that at all." She explained, grabbing clothes from the drawers next to her.

"It sure seemed like that to me, but if you say so. I still think he looks mucho familiar." Paulina told her.

Sam sighed, closed the drawers and went to the bathroom as Paulina began to hum an annoying song. Sam simply sighed and went into the bathroom for a nice long, hot, and well overdue shower.

After Sam's forty-five minute shower, she wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out to brush her teeth. She could hear Paulina in either the kitchen or the living room doing who knew what. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and began to brush her teeth as her mind clouded over...

_"I could never…" Danny took a break to sip out of his glass. "Ever never in any weather—" He grinned as Sam giggled. "See myself marrying anyone. But with you, baby, this feels right. Sam, will you marry me?"_

_Sam gave an excited squeal. The club around them was still partying at full blast and the two of them had been in their own little word for almost three hours._

_"Yes! Of course! Let's go! Let's get married!" she said with the excitement of a child. Danny grabbed her hand and gave her a long kiss on the mouth before the two broke apart grinning, and raced off through throngs of people._

Sam gaped and out of her mouth fell her indigo colored toothbrush. She glowered at her reflection.

"Really, subconscious? I could really do without the reuniting of the memories that my hangover was obviously trying to help me forget!"

"Really, Sam? I could really do without hearing you talk to yourself like a loony-loon. What would your husband think?" Sam shot her a dirty look as she continued brushing only to stop as Paulina began to sing to the tune she was humming before.

"If you've got ghosts, who do you trust the most? Jack and Maddie Fender." She sang.

Sam glared and told her to shut up. "Stop singing that stupid jingle already. What kind of a last name is 'Fender' anyway?"

Paulina shrugged. "It's what the song in the commercial says, chica. I don't make this stuff up. How could I? It's too horrible to fake."

Sam shrugged and finished up before turning to Paulina and asking, "…Why I do I put up with you?"

Paulina gave a fake wink. "You love me, Sammy dahling."

"Mhm, definitely dropped on your head." Sam confirmed, pushing her aside to leave the bathroom. The morning was off to a good start, with or without Paulina…on second thought.

"STOP SINGING THAT DAMN SONG!" Sam snapped as Paulina broke into full chorus again.

* * *

Sam was in the midst of putting on a pair of shoes for the evening, when she heard a knock on the door. A quick glance at the clock over her bed told her that it was nearing five forty-four, meaning that if it was Danny, which she had a feeling that it was, he was early. With her left shoe in hand and her right shoe on he foot, she carefully hobbled out of her room, down the hall and to the front door.

She opened the door and just as she suspected, there was Danny. What surprised her however, was the look on his face and the bouquet in his hands.

"You look…wow." Danny grinned sheepishly. He extended the bouquet of black and white roses to her, still looking at her with the look on his face.

"Thank you. You look nice, too. How my mother knew your measurements…" Sam wondered, leaving her question in the air as she steadied herself. Between the dress and her lack of shoe, she was certainly close to toppling over.

Danny noticed, and like a gentleman he leaned so that she could put a hand on his shoulder. As she steadied herself with the hand holding the bouquet, she couldn't help but feel his shoulder. It reminded her of the morning before when she'd seen said shoulder…and the rest of his upper body.

He shrugged, dragging her mentally from her thoughts and physically from his shoulder. "I don't know, but it's a good fit."

Sam contained her smirk at his choice of words. After he was assured that both of her shoes were on and that her height was level, he looked at her again, still grinning.

She raised an eyebrow and remarked, "I get that you haven't seen me sober and well put together all at once, but please explain to me why you're looking at me like that. You haven't fallen in love with me in cliché movie fashion have you? Tell me, did you watch me sleep last night?" she joked.

Danny looked taken off guard, but quickly turned his look into one of humor. He laughed, "No, sorry to disappoint you."

Sam made a face. "Aw, and here I was hoping to have a marriage of Disney caliber. Now seriously, Prince Charming, what's with the face? I know I wasn't exactly exuding supermodel vibes at the Atheneum, but it wasn't that bad. I don't look _that_ different." She defended.

She did in fact secretly feel pretty confident that she looked tons better than she had before. Hell, anything had to be better than how she'd woken up that morning. In her charity work, she'd met people in homeless shelters whose breath hadn't smelled as bad as hers had. Now that she was thinking of it, what in the hell did they put into cosmopolitans?!

Back to her attire, she did feel relatively well about it. She was wearing a floor-length strapless violet colored fitted gown. It was silk and it hugged her bust tightly before falling over the rest of her loosely. As far as dresses picked out by her mother, this had to be the most comfortable, and Sam's favorite. The purple accented her eyes though they were two different shades. Paired with her silver Steve Maddens, she felt nearly invincible, which would be just what she'd need. It was arguable whether or not invincibility was enough to handle the Cains, though.

"No." Danny shook his head. "It isn't that it's the fact that this," he gestured toward the two of them, "this is what married couples do." He told her, still wearing the grin that she was beginning to grow used to.

"Go to dinner parties arranged by the husband's psychotic mother-in-law in order to keep up with the story that said mother-in-law told a bunch of people to save face because her daughter accidentally got married to the husband mentioned previously in a drunken frenzy the night before her marriage to a man included in the bunch of people the mother-in-law is trying to save face in front of?" Sam asked in a rushed tone.

Danny stood there, astonished that she'd said that all in one breath. "No…go out to dinner parties in general. And as for that…she's your mother."

"Oh. Don't remind me." Sam sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed. She turned away from him to the kitchen where she rummaged through a wall cabinet until she'd found a vase. Sam thought Danny to be very insightful on his color choice. Either he was insightful or she was far too obvious in her personal preferences.

She fixed the flowers nicely, filled the vase with water and left them on the table nearest the door. As she neared the living room where Danny was standing, she took note of what he'd had on.

He was wearing a suit in the color that reminded her of coal—black and wholesome looking, not too deep so that his body sunk into it not too light so that it looked like ashen. She liked it and she would, to herself, admit that she liked him in it. As ironic as it might have been, she mentally scolded herself for looking at her husband like eye-candy once again. It was really becoming a habit…a **bad** habit.

"A marital evening complete with a gorgeous bouquet. Great, now all you've got to do is get me drunk and have your way with me and it'll be a true relationship." Sam remarked, grabbing her purse off of the couch.

"I thought we went through that one. Have we or have we not discussed my magical abilities?" Danny asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Sam laughed out loud. "So we have. Look at that, we're ahead of the game." She looked for her car keys, as Danny remained leaning.

As she turned to find them on the table next to the flowers, she caught Danny's eye. His gaze was so intent that startled, she bumped into the vase and sent it crashing to the floor. She glanced at the vase before looking back up at Danny. He had a haunted look on his face as if he'd just remembered something terrible.

"We're married…" he finally whispered after a pregnant pause.

Sam just stared at him before snapping out of it. "Oh no, you don't Mr. 'I-have-no-problem-with-saying-it-because-it-is-what-it-is'! Don't you let the cold hard facts hit you now."

Danny gave a wry smile before explaining, "No, it isn't that I'm just realizing it. It's just really skewed to me now. It seems as if after twenty-four hours, we've formed some kind of friendship. Some kind of a weird marital friendship."

Sam thought about it before agreeing with him. "Well, it seems perfectly normal, I guess. Given my personality and what I know of yours, added with the horrible awkwardness of the situation, it seems like a usual response to immediately form some kind of a bond or a friendship. Especially with what we've put each other through in these last few hours."

"Mm," Danny mused. "Through all of this so far we've maintained a united front, though. I've never met you before, but I feel like I have. Is that…is it weird at all to you?"

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "Must I remind you of yesterday and where we're headed to right now? What part of this isn't weird to me, that's what you should be asking. The answer to that is none of it, if you wondered."

Danny laughed, and looked down at the glass and the flowers. "Sorry about that."

Sam shrugged. "It's no problem, I'll get it when I come home. Sorry in advance about tonight."

He smiled at her, and she found herself growing to like not only his grin, but his full-fledged smile also. "As long as we keep our united front, I'm sure everything will go fine. It's a dangerous world out there, Sam."

Sam didn't comment on how his tone seemed more serious than she thought required, but did return the smile. "Oh please, like I don't already know people are after you. I know your secret, Danny Fenton."

He seemed not to know whether or not she was kidding, and he questioned her remark with his eyes. "What? With your 'magic powers' you must have a lot of people after you, like some kind of a mystical pimp."

Danny snorted at her choice of words and he suddenly seemed less tense. Whatever she'd said before seemed to have hit a nerve that she didn't intend asking about. She hurriedly dismissed the concept of him being a mobster for the umpteenth time and grabbed her keys.

"You driving?" Danny questioned, easing back into his comfort zone.

"Yeah, is that okay? Even being driven by the limo seems as if I'm giving my mother even more power over me. The last thing I need is for her to obtain an outstanding upper hand." Danny nodded to say that he understood and with her purse and keys in hand, she stepped over the bit of glass nearest her after turning off the light.

She and Danny were on their way to the lion's den with no turning back now.

'_United front…united front…united front…'_ she chanted in her head.

Traffic on the way to her parents' house was a menace and a half. By the time that they'd pulled up in Sam's 350Z, it was seven twenty-one, and she had crossed the line between fashionably late and just plain rude…or at least that's how her mother would see it. The driveway was full of expensive cars, including several town cars and limousines. Danny tried to count, but got dizzy after seeing the seventy-fifth town car that looked exactly like the other seventy-four.

As a valet came up to them after Sam parked in front of the house, Danny took the time to observe the house again. He wasn't as awestruck as before, but he was still very impressed. The house did not loose its enchanting beauty, even in the pale moonlight.

The valet drove down the estate with the car, leaving Sam and Danny standing in front of the grand doors of the Manson household. Always the reassuring one, Danny clasped Sam's hand and with a smile and reminded her, "United front."

Sam took a deep breath and led them in through the doors. As soon as the doors opened, their senses were blasted with several things all at once. The smell of exquisite food, the sound of classical music, the sight and feel of everyone's eyes on them, and of course the proverbial taste of trouble in the air.

Sam cleared her throat and pushed their way through the crowd of people as Danny squirmed under the eyes of the socialites, heirs, and other scary rich people.

"Okay, not gonna lie, I'm a little daunted to be meeting—" Suddenly he and Sam stopped short.

"Adam." Sam smiled forcefully.

Before Danny and Sam stood a tall blonde haired man with a martini glass. His hair was slicked back and his suit, though similar to Danny's reminded Sam more of a funeral than elegance. His cool steel blue eyes stared them down with ease and his lips curved into a slow and crooked smile.

"So, you're the man who's stolen my dear Samantha right from under me. I'm unsure of whether to offer my congratulations or my sincere condolences." Adam alleged to Danny. He looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye.

"Congratulations are fine." Danny cleared his throat.

"So," Adam now took the time to look straight at his ex-fiancée. "Late to your own party. Your mother will be thrilled, I assume."

Sam threw him a scathing look, "You do know what happens when you assume don't you, Adam?"

Adam grimaced and retaliated by turning to Danny and replying, "I see you have your hands full. Enjoy your evening. We'll be catching up later. Thank you for the ring back."

"Need advice on where to put it?" Sam grumbled under her breath.

He turned on his heel, martini in hand and disappeared into the crowd. As he left, Danny was relieved to see a face he recognized walk over to take his place.

"And here I was on my way to bail you out. Way to grab Adam by the balls, Sam." The petite redhead smiled brilliantly.

"Lynne, don't you ever say my name and Adam's name in the same sentence, especially when referring to parts of his male anatomy. Please and thank you." Sam glared at her sister before her eye caught a waiter with a tray of drinks…but it wasn't just any drink. No, this drink was pink. It was pink and—

"—_so good! Really! We should get some. We should get lots and lots of 'somes'. And when we finally get them…we'll get __more__." Sam told her husband as they rode the elevator in the Atheneum._

"_Anything you want, Sam." Danny told her, pushing her hair out of her eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and tired, but the loving gaze in them was unmistakable._

_They'd made the right decision, Sam was sure of it. As the elevator opened their lips met in another kiss and they made their way into the hotel room hand in hand, Sam was absolutely positively sure. _

Sam was absolutely positively going to scream. She was being punished. If she wasn't sure of it before, she was completely convinced by then. Who in their right damn mind would request _**Cosmopolitans **_after the horrible night she'd been through?! Granted, no one knew about it except Paulina and—…_Paulina_.

Muttering dark things about the Latina, Sam decided to find her mother before she killed her, or at least to get an idea of when this party would be over. She left Danny with her sister and went in search of Pamela. After rushing through dozens of women who hadn't seen her mother but had seen her new husband and wanted to let her know that 'he was a cutie' and that 'they wholeheartedly approved' because 'Adam didn't look like he'd know what he was doing anyway' (yes, she too was horrifically disgusted), she finally found out that her mother had gone upstairs for an aspirin.

She made her way to the master bathroom where she thought her mother to be and low and behold, there she was.

"Mother, I—" Pamela held a hand up to her impatiently.

"Not now, Samantha. I'm busy. I need to get this abysmal migraine out of the way. I've people to entertain."

Sam sighed. "Yes, Mom, but—"

"Honestly, Samantha. I haven't the faintest idea what has you so uptight—you look stunning, by the way—but you really need to relax. How will it look for the newlywed to have frown lines? Would it kill you to smile more?"

"Slowly and painfully, yes it would. Now would you just list—"

"Fine. Fine. I will listen to whatever you have to say, but first I really must attend to something. It shouldn't take very long. I will meet you in your old bedroom and then you'll have my ear." Pamela hurried, taking the aspirin and reapplying her lipstick.

Sam sighed jadedly. "Fine. I'll be my customized prison ce—I mean old bedroom."

Pamela threw her a look of derision. "Samantha, go numb your brain with some television. It'll take the bitterness out of your soul."

Sam turned to leave muttering, "The words of every good parent…"

She made her way into her old bedroom as she heard her mother exit the bathroom and make her way down the grand staircase. She could imagine the phony smile and look of eloquence she'd be feigning. She had afterall, seen it all before. Sam took in the sight of her room in relaxation. It was just the way she'd left it when she'd left home. Though she'd just seen it last month, she always expected to walk into one of her mother's dastardly creations. Even when she lived in the house her mother had threatened to turn her room into a day spa, in spite of the fact that there were two in the house already.

Sam inspected the room to reassure herself and found not a coal bed or a cucumber bath in sight. This was still her old room, orchid walls, black crown molding and all. Her old Evanescence bed set still adorned the mattress, though her mother had thrown a bright pink 'Flower Power' comforter over Amy Lee's face in an effort to hide the gothic singer. Sam's nose wrinkled in disgust.

The black armoire still sat tall and heavy opposite the orchid curtained window, and her off-white carpet contrasted wonderfully and still felt just as soft and inviting through her open-toed heels as it always had. This room, not the gargantuan and impressive looking house, but this room alone, was her home away from home. She had left, but her sense of belonging had not.

Finally deciding to listen to her mother if not for the first time in her life, she turned to the large television and absentmindedly flicked on the remote beside the bed. It turned on and a little 'recording' icon flitted across the screen momentarily. The television showed some familiar looking sitcom that Sam couldn't have been bothered with at the time, and she turned away from it to observe the posters that still hung around the room.

Flyleaf, A7X, MXPX, Blink-182, No Doubt and—

She heard a familiar yet incredibly annoying sound that instantly reminded her Paulina that interrupted her nostalgia.

"_If you've got ghosts, who do you trust the most? Jack and Maddie Fenton!"_ the commercial sang. Sam's head whipped around at a speed that could have made her neck crack, but by then, only an older looking couple stood smiling. Sam shook her head and laughed at herself. 'Fender' and 'Fenton' sound a lot alike, so maybe she was just being—

"…_Hi, I'm Jack Fenton, and this is my wife Maddie. We've fought for years protecting our children Danny and Jazz from the spooks in this town,"_ Sam's jaw could have hit the floor as a picture of Danny and a redheaded woman appeared on the screen.

"…_now let us protect your families too! Call 987-6445!"_

Sam slumped onto the carpet that she'd just been singing praises to. Why, oh why couldn't Danny have just been a farm boy?

"Look at the bright side, Sam…he isn't in the mob." Sam told herself with a sigh. She leaned back only to bump her head against the bed as she had done in her own bed that very morning.

"Alright, Samantha, now what did you want to speak with me about?" Pamela asked, walking into the room.

Sam just stared at her, feeling two very different types of headaches coming on.

* * *

Okay guys, hope you enjoyed that, and don't forget to check out Adam on my profile page. Sam's dress is also there!


	6. Making A Deal With The Devil In Prada

Pamela stood dignified, looking at her daughter inquisitively.

"Samantha, really. If you're just going to stand here gaping at me like a of petulant albeit very well dressed trout of some sort, I'm making my departure. I've guests to attend to."

Sam sighed. Only her mother could compliment her and insult her in the same sentence. The television continued on in the background with tracks of laughter and applause. "No, Mother. I wanted to speak to you, not…what did you say—'_stand_ _here_ _gaping'_ at you?"

"Well fine then. What is it?" the redheaded older woman questioned.

"It was…" Sam paused.

What had she been meaning to speak to her mother about? With the sudden feeling of confusion washing over her, she barely noticed her mother's irritated scowl. "It was…alright, well now I don't remember." She confessed.

Two characters on the television set were having an argument and Sam wondered if it was a foreshadowing to what was about to happen with her mother and herself. Sam's thoughts were all over the place and totally incapable of focusing. They flitted back from Danny, to her mother, to Danny's parents, to how this would blow up when _her_ parents—okay, or just her psychotic mother—found out about what _his_ parents did for a living.

It wasn't really that big of a deal to her. Surprising and highly unconventional? Yes. Was she ready to cut off all ties with her new husband turned friend? Of course not…and yes, she knew how backwards that was. (The husband turned friend thing, not…you know, the whole accepting Danny thing.)

Pamela rolled her eyes. "Well, as not to discount this as a total waste of time, I have something to bring up with you." She said pointedly, sitting elegantly upon a raised lilac colored footstool in her golden gown.

Sam raised an eyebrow as her mother looked up at her. "Was it because we were late? Because not only was traffic bordering unbearable, you should be grateful that we even showed up at all. The last two days of my life have been murder, and talking it up with a bunch of stuck-up socialites isn't guaranteed to help any."

Pamela sighed. "You've made your appearance, and if you'd like to leave, you may. But first, we must talk."

Sam looked skeptical. "Just like that? What's the catch? With you there's always a catch."

"No catch, no gimmick. I don't wish to argue, Samantha. Please, sit. We've something very important to discuss." Pamela pleaded, her eyes locking with her daughter's. Sam, still incredibly suspicious sat upon her bed and looked at her mother intently.

"There is no easy way of going about saying this…Samantha, you cannot annul the marriage to the farm boy."

Sam stared at her mother. "…_How drunk_ _**are**__ you_?"

* * *

Danny stood off to the side with his new sister-in-law, who had in fact been relatively quiet since Sam had run off. Of course, as silences go, Danny was learning that they didn't last long in Lynne's company.

"So, enjoying yourself? Rubbing elbows with the rich doing anything for you?" Lynne questioned casually.

Danny was unsure of how to respond. "Not really? I haven't really met anyone besides Adam, and I'm kind of unsure if I'd want to anyway."

Lynne seemed to accept his answer. "Good boy. Smart boy. Now that I know you're not trying to steal my sister's fortune, we can be friends. Have to be sure, you know? People like 'Ad-dumb' are always skulking around here. Never can be too sure of their intentions."

Danny shrugged. "Wouldn't know anything about it, but I'll take your word for it."

Once again, Lynne seemed to like his response. "You should. I could probably buy your soul with my net worth…and then some."

Before Danny could reply to her odd statement, Paulina traipsed over in a slightly revealing hot pink dress and matching stilettos. The halter dress curved into a v-neck halfway down her chest, held together by a silver horseshoe shaped ring, before slinking into a tradition dress style.

"Where's your sister?" Paulina questioned, barely acknowledging Lynne's presence.

Lynne wasted no time in putting her opinion out there. "You look like a hooker. A cheap and tawdry hooker."

Paulina gave her a death glare straight from Hell. "You are just a jealous little girl who needs to shut up and sit down." Paulina eyed her emerald green gown with indignation.

"Uh…not jealous," Lynne gestured to herself, and then to Paulina, "still a hooker…with frown lines. Ooh, now you're a _sad_ hooker."

Paulina immediately reached up to touch her face before storming off in fury, pushing the Dean of Admissions of Harvard out of her way.

Danny winced. "That was kind of mean."

Lynne scoffed. "You're married and you're in a three mile radius, trust me, I just saved your life. Besides, three drinks later she won't remember she's even wearing that dress…or actually, three drinks later, she probably won't be." Lynne prattled on.

Danny looked away from the teenage girl to see that no one had even batted an eyelash at the scene, though he was being stared at intently by a group of cougars near the archway. When a busty older blonde who looked to be in her late fifties winked at him, Danny quickly looked away.

Where was Sam?

"Mother, what—I—what in the hell are you talking about?" Sam sputtered.

"Business, Samantha." Pamela urged. "Think of it as a business arrangement."

"What are you proposing, that I turn my accidental marriage into a marriage of convenience? Danny isn't interested in our—in **your** money. Danny isn't interested in your money." Sam corrected.

Sam was doing wonders for her moral compass. Not only had she proved herself non-shallow in her judgment—or rather lack thereof—of Danny's family, but she'd successfully renounced her parents' money. And all of this in one day! The marriage was already a convenience for her. It was the biggest kick in the teeth she could give to her much hated social status...so why was her mother urging her to stay?

"Wait a minute!" Sam said sharply, before Pamela could retaliate. "You don't even like Danny. You think he's two steps away from pig raising with Uncle Burt and Aunt Sue on the good 'ole farm."

Pamela smiled, causing Sam to catch a chill. "Your 'Danny' is a no-good, corn shucking farm boy. But my 'Daniel', the one that I have created is an eloquent, kind and sweet young man with only my daughter's best interests in mind."

Ah, of course. Her mother's harebrained scheme to keep her status in the social ladder. It can't be admitted that Sam made such a mistake. Who would understand that for the first time in however many years, that Samantha, the golden daughter of Jeremy and Pamela Manson shirked off her responsible nature for just _one _night? No one could know how much she truly hated the branch of society that her mother clung to! No, Samantha could do no wrong, and if she did, it was meant to be hidden.

"_Danny is_ like that!" Sam snapped. At Pamela's astonished look, Sam backpedaled.

"What I mean is that he is kind and sweet, and eloquent in his own way. And he's proving to be a good friend with my best interests in mind. He brought me flowers!" Sam argued.

"Ooh, give the boy a prize, he grows flowers with the local florist." Pamela replied, deadpan.

"I am NOT going to ask Danny to keep up your charade, especially if it means disrupting both of our lives in a marriage that is only _convenient_ for YOU." Sam leapt up, wrinkling her dress as she went to exit her old bedroom.

"But you must! You have no choice!" Pamela argued, her voice wavering.

"I'll be damned if I don't. Of course I have a choice, and I'm choosing to grab Danny and leave this hellhole like you said I could."

Pamela got up and hurriedly threw herself onto the door, startling Sam, but leaving her unsurprised and aggravated with her mother's antics.

"Move, Mother." Sam grit out, attempting to wrench her mother's grasp from the closed doorway.

"Listen to me, Samantha. If not for me than for your father! Please just listen! We're in trouble. Financial trouble. Your father and I are in financial trouble!" Pamela sobbed, pulling away.

Sam stopped tugging on both her mother and the door to listen. "What are you talking about? You and Dad have lots of money. Look at the party downstairs. That monster wedding you tried to push on me? Nice try, Mom but I'm l—"

"No!" Pamela sobbed harder. "Don't you get it, Samantha?! As if I couldn't see how much you hated Adam! As if I couldn't see what a cold groom I was giving you away to!"

Sam ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "Okay, you're a horrible mother, you're feeling remorse, and I get it! I swear, I do. Better late than never. Now can you please get up? You want a drink? Juanita's around here somewhere..."

Pamela stayed frozen against the doorway, her makeup and hair in ruin and her dress splattered with teardrops.

"No, Samantha, no! The Cains were our way out! When you and Adam married, the companies were to intertwine and save your father from bankruptcy. The wedding was the last of our money, Samantha! The party downstairs is your recycled reception!" she bawled.

Sam stood utterly shell shocked. It would make sense; why her mother was so determined to show off for her wedding. And the party decorations downstairs had struck a familiar chord with her...was that why? And Adam. She knew her mother hadn't been so oblivious.

"What do Danny and I have to do with your financial plight, Mom? He isn't a real heir if you haven't forgotten. You lied, remember?" Sam questioned, squatting down to her mother's face.

"Don't squat in those shoes, you look pigeon-toed." Pamela sniffed. Sam ignored her, feeling her pity for her mother vanish.

"Everyone is absolutely in love with him." Pamela continued.

At Sam's raised eyebrow she informed her daughter, "They're gushing about him downstairs. How handsome he is. How polite he seems. How much of a gentleman he is for staying with your sister in your absence."

"They're buying into your lie and seeing Danny in the light he deserves compared to the hell you put him through. Big deal." Sam retaliated.

Pamela's tears were fat and dark colored as they fell, taking her obviously un-waterproof mascara down with them. The lipstick she'd reapplied was smeared upon her hands from burying her face in them, and her dress was darker in the spots where the tears had stained. If she was indeed faking, which Sam wouldn't put past her, she was going all out for this one.

"There are brokers' and partners' wives here this evening. After seeing you both walk in they've apparently been convinced and have convinced their husbands that 'Manson Incorporated' is a company they can trust. I honestly don't know, Loretta Davenport said it was something about the image of young love." Pamela explained through tears.

When Sam didn't interrupt or comment, she continued.

"This arrangement would not only keep our family out of damaging financial debt, but would help your little farm boy's parents with that sinking ship of a ghost business that they have."

At this, Sam snapped to attention. "You know?!" she cried.

Pamela sniffled once more and rolled her eyes. "Oh of course I know who his parents are. I Google to find out about strangers as opposed to going off and _**marrying**_ them."

She pursed her lips and allowed her mother to continue. "Point. Received."

"Now, FentonWorks is headed for ruin. Reports say that thanks to that ghost boy, ghost crime is decreasing. The Fentons have nothing to do, and have even resorted to television gimmicks."

"Yeah, I know," Sam muttered.

Pamela either didn't hear her or chose not to. "I'm ready to offer the boy's family a quarter of a million in retribution. It's only pocket change in comparison to what we're expecting in the overall time of your marriage."

"Whoa, whoa. 'Overall time'? How long are you trying to drag this out for?" Sam asked, catching on.

"Six months to a year." Pamela answered without hesitation.

Sam gave her a bewildered look. "That makes an annulment more than ten times harder to get! We'd have to publicly divorce by then!"

Pamela seemed to brighten up. "So you're considering it?"

"No!" Sam cried. "Absolutely not!"

"But Samantha, if you get the annulment so soon after tonight it'll look suspicious! They'll back out! Think of Lynne! Think of your father!" Pamela pleaded.

Sam sighed. Not that she was even entertaining the thought...but what would happen to Lynne? Her college fund, her private school funding, all Manson money. Lynne hated their social status as much as she did, but she had friends at school. Friends who wouldn't be at the public school she'd be forced to attend if the company tanked.

And her father...the company had been a family tradition, and Jeremy Manson grew it to be so much more than that. He'd taken the small idea of his father, grandfather and the like and turned it into a multi-million, maybe even billion-dollar industry. He was taking care of his mother with that money...oh, what would happen to Gran?

Pamela frowned. "You owe this family, Samantha."

Sam nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. "I'll discuss it with Danny. My decision goes on what he says."

Pamela gathered herself together and gave her daughter a watery smile. "Good girl. I knew I could count on you."

Her mother moved out of the way, allowing her leave of her bedroom. She imagined that it would be quite some time before Pamela immerged from within the confines of her old bedroom; she had a lot of makeup to reapply, and a lot of time would be spent putting her overall appearance back together. Sam walked down the hallway to the grand staircase separating herself and those below her at the event…her event.

It wasn't a moment after she'd stepped down onto the third or fourth step, perhaps maybe the fifth that she spotted him. There was Danny, being chatted up by her sister. Scanning the room, her mother wasn't proved to be a liar. There were indeed whispers and glances thrown in the direction of the tousle-haired, blue-eyed beau of hers, and they all seemed to be within good intention. They liked him, they really liked him.

She continued stepping down the stairs, picking up the end of her gown and being careful not to trip in it, before she felt sharp nails dig into her arm from the right of her. A surprised jolt caused her to see that it was only Paulina, apparently seething for reasons unknown to her.

"Your brat of a sister called me a hooker, again!" she hissed.

Sam wasn't interested, she had something to do. "Yeah, well the first time she said it, there was probable cause."

"A misunderstanding." Paulina haughtily insisted.

"You were standing on a corner trying to flag down a limousine, Paulina. Probable cause. But what do I know? I went to Yale. Excuse me." Sam pulled away from her and continued down the stairs.

"They seem to like him!" Paulina called to her, over the dull roar of music and conversation. She followed her down the stairs, her heels click-clacking loudly in comparison to Sam's careful footsteps.

"So I've heard." Sam replied, continuing down the stairs, catching Danny's eye.

She slowed down her pace, watching him watch her as she grew nearer. As she came to the final step, becoming ground level and inevitably losing him within the crowd, the full effect of what her mother had asked her to do finally caught up with her.

So in front of exactly one thousand four hundred and seventy-two guests, Samantha Manson…excuse me _Fenton_ promptly fainted at the bottom of the staircase. The last thing Sam saw before darkness was a certain tousle-haired, blue eyed party favorite rushing toward her side.

"_Oh my God!" _That was a woman's cry.

"_Is she okay?"_ That was Lynne.

"_Okay, everyone please just move out of the way…"_ That was Danny.

"_Did she break a heel?" _That was Paulina.

And then…silence.

* * *

Don't forget to check out the dresses worn by Paulina, Lynne, Sam, and Pamela on the profile page! Tell me what you think of them.


	7. The Offenses Of Sleeping Beauty

Sam opened bleary eyes to see her own eyes staring back at her. One blink, then two and the other pair of eyes formed the face of her younger sister, Lynne. Strands of her red hair hung over her face and tickled her nose as she towered over her.

"Hey, she's up." Lynne whispered, pushing the loose hairs out of her face.

Not even a moment later, Danny appeared at Lynne's side, looking down at her concernedly. Even in her distorted state, she'd know those now very familiar blue eyes anywhere. Was that a good thing? She didn't have time to ponder as he began speaking to her.

"You okay? You passed out." Danny put a cool hand to her forehead.

Sam nodded and gently pushed it away, wondering if she'd imagined the flicker of hurt or some other emotion like it that flashed on his face as she did.

"Yeah, thanks." She tried to sit up only to be hit with a wave of euphoria. "Whoa."

"Hey, hey, hey. Lie back down. After a cold hard hit to the floor like that, you need to take it easy. I'm surprised you can see straight." Danny smiled.

"Who ever said that I could see straight?" Sam half-joked. Was it her or did Avril Lavigne suddenly have three rapidly swooshing heads on that poster over yonder?

"All the more reason for you to stay lying down." Danny affirmed. He stared her down until she relented, glaring at him through half-open eyelids.

As she lie on her childhood bed the night's events began to come back to her, including the horrifying prospect of what she'd have to do; what she'd have to say to Danny. Ignoring Danny's previous request, she sat up again and turned to her sister who was still nearby.

"Lynne, where's Mom?"

The redhead shrugged, adjusting the bodice of her dress so that it fit snugly. "What, am I the zookeeper now?"

At the irate look of her sister, she continued. "I don't know, Sam. She's probably off singing praises about how your beloved saved you from cracking your skull open—nice save by the way—and listening to everyone downstairs coo about your _divine_ romance."

Sam did not comment for several moments on her sister's words, especially those directed toward Danny, mainly because she hadn't the faintest idea of what to say. She lied back down and closed her eyes again, half concentrated on her thoughts and half concentrated on Danny's hand, which had found its way back to her forehead.

While Sam mustered up a proper thought to make verbal, an unexpected person made an appearance into the room. Sam wouldn't have known were it not for Lynne. Trust her big mouth sister to keep her in the loop, even in a dazed state.

"What in the hell do you want, you goober?" Lynne questioned scathingly.

Adam laughed stiffly. "You say that as if there were a time when I wasn't going to be your brother-in-law."

Danny's hand moved from her forehead and she felt his body turn around, as if he were trying to assess whether or not Adam was even worth paying attention to. Sam felt relieved and a little foolish. She shouldn't have worried that Danny wouldn't be able to hold his own in her world. He seemed to be taking all of this in stride, which was obviously more than she could say for herself. Here he was, fending off the masses and apparently wooing over a whole society without breaking a sweat. And what had she contributed to the evening? A would-be concussion, that's what.

'_Manson, you better step up your game…'_ she thought crabbily. _'It isn't fair to him.'_

Tuning back in to the conversation, Lynne scoffed, "You say that as if there were a time that I cared."

"No matter, Lynnette. I was wondering about your sister. How is she?" Adam questioned.

If Sam's eyes were open she would have made the same incredulous look that she imagined Lynne and perhaps Danny was wearing. Adam didn't care about anything, especially not anything having to do with Sam, so why the sudden interest? Lynne asked just that.

"We've a history, Lynnette. Of course I'd worry about her." Adam laughed haughtily. Something was definitely up.

Lynne seemed not to buy into it and remarked, "Sure. Btw, call me 'Lynnette' again, Blondie and see if you walk out of this room with all your man junk in place. I'm going to go before I impale you. Sam's _husband_ will make sure she's okay, I'm sure."

"I'm sure he will as well." Adam agreed.

Sam heard shuffling. Peeking through a squinting eye showed her that Adam moved out of the way for Lynne's departure from the room. After the door was shut, Sam hurriedly shut her eye and resumed her Sleeping Beauty state as Adam began speaking once more. It technically wasn't eavesdropping. They knew she was in the room, so she wasn't at any fault! Her apt attempt at steady breathing could have implicated her though.

"Any idea why she fell out?" Adam questioned casually. Danny didn't respond at first, like he was unsure of whether he was really being addressed or not. His slow movements after his hand found its way back to head were still steady and calming.

"Erm…no, not really. I'm not a doctor." Danny remarked uneasily, removing his hand for what could have been the thousanth time. Meanwhile, Sam could have kicked him. Sure, he was fine with a bunch of randy old socialites, but get him cornered in a room with Adam Cain, King of the Pansies and he clams up like just that—a pansy! It was safe to say that she still had a bit of resentment left for her ex-suitor, and Danny was about to get kicked out of her personal fan club if he kept it up.

"Oh, well obviously not." Adam replied offhandedly, most like eyeing him. Sam felt her hand clench up and fist the comforter at his blatant rudeness.

"But if I had to guess—" Danny backtracked quickly. "If I had to guess I would say it's been from the last two days. We've been quite busy."

Adam cleared his throat once and from the sound of it, Sam recognized it as his angry throat clearing. …The one he did when he was absolutely thrown for a loop. Oh, how she would enjoy the rest of this conversation.

"Busy." Adam repeated, as if he were testing the word out on his own. "Such a simple word that doesn't even begin to do justice to the offense."

Sam twitched, but continued willing herself to keep still.

"'Offense'?" Danny questioned. "Are you calling Sam an 'offense'?"

Adam scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. While Samantha continues to be _offensive_ she is not an offense."

'_Keep still…don't kick him…keep still.' _Sam concentrated. If it had been a movie or a cartoon she'd have either beads of sweat pouring down her face and/or a thought bubble with an exploding Acme bomb. Or would be sticks of dynamite in her eyes? When was the last time she actually watched a cartoon again...?

"No," Adam continued. "The offense I am referring to was the wrongful adultery that was committed yesterday evening. And here you are parading yourself with **my fiancée**. Have you no shame or dignity?"

Okay, so maybe Sam wouldn't enjoy the rest of this conversation. She mentally debated whether to pop up and defend Danny while giving herself up, or to continue lying here and allow him to fight his own battle…even though technically it was her battle. Danny didn't give her a chance to decide.

"Your ex-fiancée. If anyone's being adulterous, it's you. You shouldn't be after someone else's wife, man. It's immoral." Danny answered coolly, placing his hand back on her forehead. Sam could envision Adam's jaw clenching and his nostrils flaring like an angry blonde bull.

"Everyone else may be convinced that you two are a match made in heaven, but I find it far too convenient that you were wed the day before her betrothal." Adam grimaced.

Sam felt Danny's hand pause for a moment before his thumb continued its small circles on her head. "So you admit that it was a marriage of convenience?"

"No better than your own." Adam challenged, making his way toward the door. "Maybe it is a love story. Perhaps the fable floating around downstairs is true. Or maybe it was a mistake. A very costly, costly mistake—monetarily and not. Either way, you need to watch where you step and keep an eye on where you lay, sir."

Sam's breath hitched angrily in her throat and she prayed that neither of them heard it.

Adam's cold demeanor and mannered composure did not give way to his angry footsteps, and with the air that was Adam Cain, he turned to the pair of them.

"Congratulations again, and good luck. You'll need it with her. She's offensive." Adam reminded Danny.

"I like offensive." Danny countered.

There was another cold hard silence before Adam gave a slight laugh to himself and remarked before his exit, "Yeah, you would."

The door opened and shut for the second time and Danny stopped to tap her forehead with his index finger. "You. You, are a horrible fake sleeper, Miss."

Sam's eyes flashed open and she smirked. "Hey, I was doing good!" she defended.

"You're an amateur." Danny insulted.

Sam sat up and fake gasped. "Oh, and as if you could do any better?"

Danny nodded earnestly. "I can and I will. In fact I can do so much better than you that—"...

"—_you're going to wonder why you didn't marry me for my fantastic drinking abilities!" Sam cried emphatically. _

_Danny laughed, lying back on his elbows as he watched her dance around excitedly as she chugged yet another bottle from the mini-fridge. "Slow down, baby. You're going to get yourself sick." He still held his own half-drunken bottle in his hand._

_Sam only meant to shake her head, but ended up shaking her entire body back and forth. "No! Honey, no. I am an expee—…an expar—…and ex-puh-urt." She pronounced drunkenly. "I'm on my third one."_

_Danny looked confused as he looked down near her feet. "Are you not counting the five you drank while I was in the bathroom?" _

_Sam blinked, then averted her gaze to the floor. "Oh. Right. Then I'm on my three plus fifth!" she announced excitedly. _

_Danny grinned at her. "I love you, Mrs. Fenton."_

_Sam placed her bottle on the vanity behind her and beamed back at him before jumping on the bed to be nearer to him. "I love you more, Mr. Fenton." _

...Sam zoned back in to Danny repeating her name. "Way to be a space case." He joked.

Sam just stared at him before looking away in embarrassment. Danny caught this and questioned her. "What?"

Not knowing where to begin, Sam just threw something out at him. "Do you recall…any of that night?"

Danny nodded slowly. "Sort of. I remember bits and pieces of things like the elevator and talking in Baja. I kind of get déjà vu and things come to me. Why?"

Sam nodded in understanding. "Because the same thing just happened to me. It's actually been happening to me all day at the worst and most random of times. One minute I'm sitting there and the next—"

"—you're in the same clothes as two nights ago with a person you just met in less than forty-eight hours. Happened to me at a red light yesterday. One minute I'm driving the next, I'm remembering our wedding." Danny snorted to himself, brushing a hand through his hair easily.

Sam turned to him quickly. "You remember our wedding?"

Danny nodded and Sam felt a little excited. "Well, what are you waiting for? Tell me what happened!"

Danny opened his mouth before closing it. "Erm…no."

"No. You remember our wedding, I ask you to tell me, and you say 'no'." Sam deadpanned. Was he really not going to tell her? This was usually the day a girl dreamed about since she was a little girl, and he wasn't going to tell her?! Okay, so while she might not have been one of those little girls who dreamed of four tier cakes, Vera Wang, and a Grammy winning diva belting out love ballads at her beck and call, it was the principle!

"I'd rather you remember it for yourself." Danny explained. "I don't know much about this stuff, but I can wager that me telling you and you remembering it for yourself are most likely going to be two totally different experiences."

Sam nodded and leaned back against her headboard with a sigh. Danny gave a slight grin at her expression and Sam rolled her eyes at him before smacking him upside the head with a nearby pillow.

"Ow! What was that for?" Danny questioned, rubbing the side of his face.

"For letting me say 'three plus fifth'." At Danny's confused look she taunted, "I'd much rather you remember it for yourself."

He snorted before extending a hand. "I'd hit you back, but I'm afraid of your mother." Sam laughed loudly before taking his hand and allowing herself to be pulled up from the bed.

"We've gotta go back downstairs." Sam concluded with a sad pout.

Danny nodded. "That we do. We should hurry up before I'm minus a sister-in-law, though. She isn't too nice to Adam and Paulina, and you know what happens when the evil villains get together and go after the innocent girl."

"Lynne is hardly innocent, and someone needs to stop watching Disney. Seriously, Prince Charming, what's with all the references tonight?" Sam laughed at the sheepish look on his face.

"Disney Channel comes on at work." He defended.

At his words, Sam felt the ease between them slip away, at least for her. Her mother had asked her to do something. Her family needed her to do something. She had to ask Danny to do something that her mother had asked her to do because her family needed her to do it. If only her head would stop spinning long enough for her to get the words out.

How did one go about asking someone to sacrifice something so great as their personal freedom for someone else? Would she have done it if it had been the other way around? She knew the answer—probably not. Adam had accused her time and time again of having commitment issues. She didn't! The true issue was that she could not commit herself to someone with issues, and Adam Cain was the Grand Emperor of Issues.

Back to the problem at hand, Sam was unsure if she could do it, but she knew that right then would be her only opportune chance to ask him. To ask him if he wanted to stay married to her; ask him if he wanted to make their shotgun wedding of convenience the real deal. She herself didn't even know if she could handle it, but it was a risk she would be taking for her father, her sister, and (she would grudgingly admit) for her mother.

"Danny. I need to ask you something."

* * *

I know! I left you guys hanging!

I'm absolutely so sorry for the long delay, but it is within good reason. I've started school and AP and Honors classes are killing me. Not only that, I've been blessed enough to obtain a record deal. I know! How exciting, right? So when I'm not in the studio recording my album, "Midnight Ambition", and working my little tail off in school, I'm asleep. But I have the week off so the first thing I did was run to the computer to get this out to you all.

Also, for fanfic updates, music updates, or just anything else, those of you with Twitters, you can follow me! The direct link is on my author's page, or you can go to Twitter and search for 'KeyBella'. I'd be so happy to meet some of you readers!


	8. What's Yours Is Mine

Sorry for the long wait! I tried to get this out when I had time, but I've been spread really thin with the album and school. Hopefully, it'll get better. My first performance is on Thursday, and I'm so excited!

Love you guys, and thanks for bearing with me!

* * *

Danny smiled, oblivious to Sam's inner turmoil, at least as far as Sam's eyes could see. Still so close to the bed, she sat and placed her hand on the spot next to her gently as an indication. Danny, looking slightly confused sat next to her and waited for her to speak.

'_Okay, here goes nothing…or hopefully a whole lot of something…"_ Sam pursed her lips in determination as she gathered her courage.

"Danny, I need to ask you some—"

Their heads swiveled to the right; Sam's head swiveled rather sharply as the doorknob turned. If it was Adam she'd kill him, no doubt about it. His snarky comments toward Danny already had her on edge enough as it was, and she was not going to tolerate him carrying on and on about what he'd 'lost'. She'd make him lose something alright…

It was no better though when in stumbled a much older woman, who looked to be in her late fifties in a tight red dress with poofy sleeves. Her hair was done up in a bun that looked near indestructible, and she wore incredibly pointy heels that matched the color of her dress. The bad part was that Sam recognized her. The worst part was that she recognized Sam too.

"This…" she sighed drunkenly, "…is not the bathroom. That Cain boy wouldn't know his way out of a half-flushed urinal." She muttered.

Sam gave a look of moderate disgust. "Countess, the bathroom is out the door and down the hallway. Make a quick left, can't miss it. Sink, tub, toilet…mirror." Sam looked at the woman's face, currently smeared with blush and some other mystery cosmetic.

"Oh, Samantha, dahling. I'm here now, so I'll just…comfy up…oh!" Danny flinched as the woman tripped over her own two feet and fell to the floor. "Or down. I can comfy down." She gave a silly drunken giggle as she lay with the bottom half of her body in the threshold of Sam's room and the other half in the hallway.

Danny looked unsure of whether to go and aid the obviously inebriated woman. Just as he looked ready to leap up, Sam stared him down, gluing him to his spot next to her. She didn't need him to go off and get a soft spot for the drunks just because he'd walked a mile in their shoes.

Especially since _technically_ **HE** hadn't walked anywhere, it had been **SHE** who had walked a mile…or two…or four…home that next morning, since **SOMEONE** had taken her car. Was she still upset? Maybe. She wasn't going to lie, her feet still ached a little.

"Countess, you…actually can't. Danny and I were kind of in the middle of something important and—"

"OH!" The Countess exclaimed, somehow managing to flip over onto her stomach. "Marital relations! Say no more!"

She eyed them both on the bed in embarrassment and turned her head quickly, muttering something to herself.

Sam's eyes widened and Danny coughed. "No! No! Countess, no! Not—no!"

Sam got up as the Countess began to crawl out of her room, blathering on and on about how embarrassed she was to have walked in during their 'marital relations'. "No! Countess, no! Countess Von Buren!"

Sam could hear footsteps and feminine voices coming up the stairs as the Countess continued on. Desperate, Sam leapt forward and grabbed the Countess' leg in an attempt to drag her back into the room.

"Sam!" Danny cried horrified, running over to pull her off of the old woman. Sam wasn't listening, and to Sam's chagrin neither was the Countess.

"…because I understand how important it is!" the Countess continued, red-faced and jubilant. "Marital relations are very important! Especially amongst newlyweds such as yourselves!"

"Countess, shut up!" Sam hissed through gritted teeth as the footsteps sounded dangerously close. She gave one sharp tug at her leg only to end up with the one of the red shoes and enough force to push herself and Danny, who was still trying to get her off of the floor, back into the room.

"Countess? What's going on?" someone asked.

"Oh crap. Danny, move! We've got to get out there!" Sam pleaded, trying to move her dazed husband.

"Oh nothing." The Countess insisted quite loudly…too loudly. Then, in what Sam imagined was supposed to be a stage whisper she remarked, "Samantha and her beau are having marital relations in her childhood bedroom! Shh!"

"Senile old woman!" Sam cursed under her breath as she pushed Danny off and ran out to the doorway to see three young women about her age, plus Lynne conversing with the Countess.

"Marital relations?" Lynne mouthed in disbelief.

"Oh, Countess! You are so funny. Rachel, Gina, Lauren! I haven't seen you three since high school. Oh, is the Countess bothering you? Ugh, I'm so sorry. I woke up from that nasty little fainting spell I'd just had and she was just fabricating all these things about my husband and I. Oh, my gosh. It's like…when…does…it…end? Haha!" Sam fake laughed and smiled so brightly she thought her cheeks were going to pop.

"Sam, you look…good. Really good." Gina remarked. The short, yet curvaceous Italian woman looked Sam over critically.

Gina was a bit stocky, but she did have a cute face. While she wasn't fat, she could definitely fill out a dress properly, especially up top. She looked exactly the same as she had the last time that Sam had seen her…whenever that was.

"Thanks." Sam smiled uneasily.

Was she not supposed to? What had she looked like the last time that she'd seen them? She'd blocked out so much of her childhood that she'd probably blocked out the big stuff. For all she knew, she could have spent most of her junior year in Fat Camp.

"You really should be careful about falling though. Considering…you know." Lauren, the thin blonde one remarked nicely.

Lauren, always the thin and bubbly one, absolutely believed that 'blondes had more fun'. She was a party girl at heart, and while Sam didn't consider her a friend, (though she did like them all a fat load better than Paulina) she was nice enough, she supposed.

"Considering what?" Lynne and Sam asked in unison.

Rachel, a brunette who was 'pretty in her own way' as her parents put it, and spoke with a nasally undertone as a result of her third childhood rhinoplasty, gently put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"It's okay. He didn't mean to, but…well, he told us. We know about your infidelities with your current husband during your engagement to Adam, and well…we know how you're paying for it." Rachel confessed.

Sam raised an eyebrow and dropped the cutesy formalities. "What the hell did you just say?" She jerked Rachel's hand off of her shoulder.

"You cheated with that guy, and now you're having his baby. And well, Adam admitted that he was heartbroken, but…well, he knew he had to do the right thing." Gina continued on for Rachel.

Sam dully noted that by this point, the Countess had already located her other shoe, and had been headed back down the staircase already, under the guidance of her sister.

"Did he now?" Sam asked, her teeth gritted in fury.

"Yeah! But y'anno, as long as you're happy, Sam! And look at it this way, now Adam can be happy too." Lauren chirped in, smiling brightly.

Sam smiled back at the blonde and said, "You know, you're right. Adam deserves happiness, and who am I to take it away from him?"

The three women, satisfied with her answer and formalities, continued down the hallway to where they had intended to go in the first place. Danny peeked out behind the door with a questioning look on his face.

"You're not?" he asked, in regards to what she'd just said.

"No, but I'm sure as hell not the one to give it to him either." She remarked darkly. She reached for his hand and after smoothing out their attire, together they descended the staircase as Mr. and Mrs. Fenton.

If it was a fight Adam wanted, she would definitely give it to him.

* * *

After leaving Danny in the safe custody of her father and away from the would-be leeches, Sam found herself in the kitchen, leaning against the counters wondering what her next move would be. She took to watching the caterers and other hired help bustle around her busily as her mind moved just as fast.

"Don't let the red hair find you slouch, Miss Sam." A tiny maid by the name of Consuela, warned. "She breathe fire."

Sam laughed under her breath and sat up, still against the counter. The maid looked pleased and nodded with a smile. She went to walk away, but then turned back as if she'd forgotten something.

"Oh, and do not let those girls drag you through that mud, with that light haired demon boy. I no believe what they say about you, Miss Sam. I know the truth. You are a good girl, and you are an honest, honest, honest girl." She told her.

Sam nodded, already having known that those three wouldn't keep their mouths shut. As soon as they'd gotten downstairs, all eyes were on them, no doubt due to the Countess. She really didn't know what the game plan was, and on top of it all, she still hadn't gotten a chance to speak with Danny.

As if he'd want to agree to it at this point, though. One night and already she'd gotten him dragged through the drudgeries. It was a good thing she'd mentally sworn off of alcohol while her face was buried in the porcelain Mecca, or else she'd have downed the martini tray that was sat next to her a few moments before.

"Thank you, Consuela."

The tiny maid nodded again and carried on her way as Lynne walked in with her mother in tow. Consuela stopped for the second time to turn quickly to Sam.

"Mind the younger girl. She is feistier, and has much bigger mouth than Miss Sam on the outside, but on the inside, you are older than age."

Consuela then hurried along as she returned Lynne's wave, and stared at the ground to avoid Pamela's steely eye. Lynne made her way to her sister and joined her against the counters. Pamela tutted at once.

"If you were only going to clean the countertops with those carefully chosen dresses, then I should have just used them for dishrags. No less than what you're doing right now anyway." She remarked, eyeing them.

Sam and Lynne heaved off of the counter in unison irritation. Out of all of the things to pick on…of course, she picked the smallest.

"Now, Samantha, have you spoken to your…newlywed about what we've discussed?" Pamela implored, careful that no one was listening.

Sam shook her head, already having a feel for where this conversation was going. "No, Mother. I haven't had the time yet."

"Oh…haven't had the time. And from what I hear you've had the time for other engagements, hm…?" Pamela raised an eyebrow at her.

Lynne snickered and Sam pinched her under her mother detection. "And from whom did you hear of these engagements, Mother?"

"Countess Von Buren, of course." Pamela remarked.

"The Countess is a drunk old hag." Sam retorted.

Pamela looked highly offended. "Honestly, Samantha! What has gotten into you? Attacking a guest like that. Theodora has been through Hell and back, and she has many stresses on her life right now. So sue her if she likes to take a drink every once in a while. There is nothing wrong with having a drink if the situation calls for it."

Sam stared at her through her eyelashes. "So that's what you tell yourself…" she muttered.

Pamela carried on as if she didn't hear her.

"So now, she caught you right in the act. She was heavily embarrassed, though you wouldn't know it by the means of the manner in which she would _not_ quiet down about it. I don't know what to believe more crass, you…_fornicating_, or her spreading about." Her disapproval came in waves.

At this point, Lynne's snickers had erupted into hearty giggles and Sam was seconds away from pinching her little mouth closed.

"Ugh, seriously?" Sam spat in disdain. She shoved off of the counter and stared at them both in anger.

"The Countess is a psychotic old drunk who was—oh, well isn't this a surprise?—drunk! And I have been working my ass off tonight to make this work, but who am I kidding?! How could I have completely forgotten that the society that I live in is full of overbearing mothers, gossips, drunks, and spoiled bratty children." She shot a dark look toward her sister who quickly sobered.

"What was I thinking, bringing someone virtually _normal_ here? Someone who isn't used to all the crazy secrecy and outrageous responsibility that I'm used to. Danny happens to be one of the most amazing, and most normal people that I've met in a very long time, and that's saying something seeing as one, I barely know the guy, and two, we're married. Oh, and congratulations, Grandma! According to Adam Cain, I'm a pregnant cheating whore, so yeah…do what you want with that one."

Sam stalked away furiously only to have Paulina, on the arm of some unknown man, walk in and wink at her saucily. "We just heard the _naughtiest_ thing about you!"

"Then stop listening and put on some clothes." Sam snapped, pushing through the door.

Paulina pouted and looked at the man who remarked, "Well, I like it…"

Sam had the full intention of grabbing Danny and leaving as she moved through the crowd equipped with whispers and stares. Some were good, some were bad, some were indifferent, but Sam would have rathered they not have been there at all. It was all beginning to get to her and she felt her eyes grow heavier. She spotted her father and went toward him.

"Dad, where's Danny?" she asked, blinking tears away.

Jeremy Manson turned to his daughter in surprise as he went to gesture to a colleague behind her. "Oh, Sammy, there you are. He actually went looking for you. Nice young man, very nice young man."

"Which way did he go?" Sam asked, pushing the lump down in her throat to find her voice.

"Well, I believe he went—excuse me, Charles, I'm speaking to my daughter." He shook hands with the man and waited until he went by to lean closer to her. "Sammy, what's wrong? Why the tears, kiddo?"

Sam gave a watery smile. Out of her parents, it was obvious which one was in need of guidance and which one had come out on their feet from the beginning. She'd been 'Sammy' as long as she could remember, and as a child he'd promised that she'd be his 'Sammy' for the rest of her life, even when she was older and married. So far, he hadn't been lying.

"Dad, everything is going wrong. There are these rumors, and then Mom told me that you guys are _broke_?" she whispered the last word. The pain of remembrance in her father's eyes confirmed her mother's story, and her heart immediately ached for him.

"Sammy, you can't let rumors get you down." Jeremy told her, gently leading her to a quieter place. "You've survived high school, and you've more than survived college, and you've grown into a beautiful young woman before my very eyes."

Sam rested her head on her father's chest as they swayed to the music to mask her tears. She listened as he continued, admiring the flecks of gray in his blonde head of hair. Flecks of hard work, dedication, and family. Flecks that reflected, yet did not change.

Her father's lifelong work and achievement adorned his head for all to see, and held no profit for him now, and yet he still looked distinguished and loving.

Never putting on a façade, he wore the same smile that he did when business was good. She wondered for a moment what it would be like to have both of her parents this way, and then dismissed the thought. She wouldn't treasure moments like these if she had been used to them with her mother, as sad as it was to say.

She'd always wonder how he put up with her. He didn't need alcohol, or fancy parties. In fact, it was probably her mother's drinking that put them into the poorhouse in the first place.

"And who is doing the gossiping anyway?" Her father continued.

"A bunch of old women cutting themselves down to look younger, and a bunch of scantily clad little trust fund babies making themselves up to look older. It's we in the middle who find sanity, you remember that. Look at it this way, in ten years they'll all either be, pregnant, divorced, or dead."

Sam moved away from her father as they laughed loudly together. She hugged her father tightly and he returned it just as strongly. "I lost my head." Sam remarked.

He tapped the top of her head lightly. "But we've found it again." Sam's smile glowed much brighter than it had earlier that evening. Her father always had a way of making her happier. He looked over her head and formed a smile of his own.

"It seems as if we have an audience."

Sam's smile tuned up into a scowl. "I've had an audience for the whole night, Dad."

"No, no," Mr. Manson told her. "This is a welcome audience." He spun her gently so that she could see Danny watching them over the shoulders of someone else as he conversed with an older (and thankfully safe) couple. "He caught you."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"He caught you." Her father repeated. "Before you could fall…he caught you. Yes, very nice man." He agreed with his statement from before.

Sam sighed, but was unsure of what kind of sigh to classify it as. It was a meld of tired, sad, confused, content, and just pure anxiety. It was a miracle she hadn't had a breakdown. Her whole life had completely changed in less than three days, and yet, here she was, on her feet, with only a few tears to boast of. It all could be a lot worse, she realized. Danny could have been Adam's long lost brother and—…oh…Adam.

She'd been so caught up in the stupidity of others (and admittedly herself) that she'd almost left. Call it childish, call it petty, call it whatever you wanted to, you weren't going to call it morose or defeated.

"Dad, actually…I'm feeling a lot better now. Thanks." She hugged him again. He looked her once over to make sure she was all put together.

"You sure? No more tears?" He checked.

"Nah, I'm not the pity party type. Can you keep an eye on Danny?" she asked as she began to go into the crowd of people.

"Yes, of course, but where will you be?" Her father called out to her in question.

"With the Countess!" she called back.

* * *

Dinner came soon enough, sparing Sam and Danny from grueling questions and looks of pity and/or adoration. They sat together at the main banquet table with her family, Paulina, and to her dismay, the Cains in the Grand Ballroom.

Sam had spent much of her childhood learning to dance in this room, and though the lessons were tedious and her instructor rather crotchety, she did have some fond memories.

Sam gave a bored sigh as Adam's mother, Portia threw Sam yet another dirty look and otherwise blatantly ignored her. Because nothing says, "I hate you, you dirty slut" like not passing the pepper when it's asked for.

Adam's father, Geroge wore a grim expression for the duration of the evening. He either hated her too, or didn't want to be there. Sam bet on both of the latter.

After the appetizers were served, Adam stood up from their table boldly, earning a look of irritation from Sam, a worried look from Danny, and a look of curiosity from everyone else as he made his way to the front and was given a microphone from one of the waiters. Sam had a feeling of where this was going as music began to play. To hate someone as much as she hated Adam, you had to know them very well. Sam could brag to knowing Adam horrifically well, though she wasn't sure how much of an achievement that really was.

"Tonight," the blonde windbag began, "is a night of celebration. So allow me to celebrate with you. Samantha, will you dance with me?"

Danny looked highly unsure and cast Sam an anxious glance, but Sam simply patted his hand lightly and gave her best smile for all to see. She carefully got up and gracefully made her way to the bane of her existence.

Adam grabbed her hand delicately as they began to waltz in front of everyone. "My Samantha, I wasn't able to tell you how exquisitely gorgeous you look in your gown."

"Cut the crap. I know what you did." Sam said flat out.

"Ah, you know what I did and everyone here knows what you did, and yet a party gets thrown for you and your wrongdoings. Tell me, why should I be punished for replicating such behavior?" Adam pondered aloud, wearing a smirk on his face that Sam just wanted to rip off.

"You will be punished." She said matter-of-factly.

Adam laughed, and everyone probably thought she'd said something amusing. They were close enough (to Sam's pure and utter disgust) that no one would be able to read their lips. They glided across the floor in a lovely way, under the eyes of all who were watching and thinking whatever they were thinking of the two.

"That almost sounded like a threat, darling." Adam said.

Sam squeezed his hand tighter and 'accidentally' slid the edge of her heel across his toes sharply.

"Then let's make it a little clearer. If you come anywhere near my family, or do anything else that could potentially harm them or their reputation, I'll hit you so hard that you'll have to unbutton those Versace pants to sneeze." She said, the malice in her voice not taking away from the sweet smile that the guests saw.

"Poor Mansons, their reputation is all they have left. Oh, but you knew that didn't you? And yet you still went and ruined your father's life." As Adam spun her, she discreetly kneed him in the groin, causing an, "Oof!" to emerge from his lips. He maintained his posture as best as he could as he tried to catch his breath and endure the sharp pain he was feeling.

"I know, and I know how I'm going to fix it. I've got incentive now, Adam. Don't make me tell you again. And keep in mind, I'm the good Manson." She glared as the song ended. The guests all applauded, and Lynne and Danny looked at Sam in wonder. They'd expected fireworks, and they hadn't even seen a spark.

Sam sat down and Adam joined her not too long after, but not before making a trip to the bathroom. If it was one thing Sam could do well, it was knee a dirtbag. She'd saved a woman from being mugged that way, true story.

Soon came the meal and more dancing, and then what Sam was waiting for—the toasts. The first couple were a bunch of well wishers and people Sam hardly cared about, but thanked nevertheless. Paulina went up to congratulate them by her lonesome, since her date had rejoined his wife sometime before, and Sam just sighed in embarrassment at the tipsy Latina. Then finally, came the one Sam had been anticipating. The Countess.

"I would first like to clear up a few rumors," she began. The Countess had sobered up a bit since before, thanks to Sam who kept her occupied and well fed. She knew what she was doing.

"I would like to apologize to the bride and groom. It would seem that I was perhaps a tad inebriated before, but never you mind, I am fully able with my wits about me now. So, I would like to express my apologies, and clear up that the lovely young couple was not…doing what I said they were. Oopsie!" she smiled.

Sam returned the smile and waited for her to continue.

"I would also like to clear up another rumor going around about the young couple. It would seem that someone is spreading false rumors about a pregnancy. I have learned that that is completely untrue."

Several eyes turned to Sam who took a swig of champagne in confirmation and shrugged with a smile, earning a couple of chortles.

"In fact, I've also learned from the maids that…well, let's just say that Adam…you should be ashamed of yourself. But again, I apologize to the couple and I must say that you two are beautiful together, and I cannot wait to see your children." The Countess finished, earning lots of applause.

"What's she talking about?" Danny whispered to Sam.

Sam smirked and took another drink. "Let's just say that one or two of the maids _allegedly_ found Adam with the gardener six months before our wedding. I tried to work through it but…mm. Nope."

"…Isn't the gardener that nineteen-year-old Cuban kid?" Danny laughed, catching on.

Sam's smirk only grew as she cast innocent eyes on Adam, who looked irate. Danny grinned as he grabbed her hand. "Let's dance."

"What?" Sam questioned.

"Let's dance." He repeated. "C'mon, you're going to dance with the devil and not your own husband?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh and agree to his logic as they got up. They were met with applause and a whoop from Lynne, which was quickly quieted by her mother. She noted the smile on her father's face. He really did like Danny.

A rather upbeat song by Michael Bublè began to play as they danced, and Sam felt as if there were no more opportune time than this.

'_**You can dance every dance with the guy  
Who gives you the eye let him hold you tight  
You can smile-every smile for the man  
Who held your hand 'neath the pale moon light'  
**_

"Danny, remember I tried to speak with you before? We still need to talk." Sam said as they glided across the floor. She danced much better than he did, but he still held his own rather well. He held his own well with a lot of things…that thought made it easier to go on.

"Okay."

"I know your secret." She murmured.

Danny looked cautious as he asked, "What secret?"

Their close proximity allowed her to feel the increase in his heart rate. Did her knowing about his family really freak him out that much? It wasn't much of a secret really…

"About your parents. I know what your parents do." She told him. He looked slightly relieved, but still a little nervous.

"Oh…yeah, look I was going to tell you, but there isn't exactly a way to bring that up. 'Hey my parents hunt ghosts…in hazmat suits…and it's embarrassing.' I wasn't too sure about that one." He told her nervously.

Sam shook her head. "No, no. It's fine, I understand. Danny, that isn't all. I also know that your family's in trouble…money type trouble."

Danny stiffed a little and his movements weren't as fluid as before. He seemed heavily distracted, which she obviously couldn't blame him for. She wondered how he'd take the brunt of her news.

"Sam, we're in a bad economy right now. Everyone's taking a hit to their businesses, and as much as I appreciate it, I can't take your money if that's where you're going." Danny told her.

'_**And in whose arms you're gonna be  
So darling, save the last dance for me'  
**_

Sam shook her head for the second time. "You wouldn't be taking it. It would be your share."

"You're really taking this whole marriage thing up a notch, aren't you? 'What's mine is yours, what's yours is mine' doesn't fit our situation, you know." Danny remarked, confused.

"Not in a marital agreement, in a business agreement." Sam explained. Danny still looked confused so she continued in her explanation. "My parents are bankrupt and yours are in debt. Just by being here tonight, we've gotten my parents a hefty amount of money. In the words of my mother, 'Our marriage is gold'. Your parents would be getting a quarter of a million dollars just because."

"Wait, what? Why? What does this have to do with my family?" Danny wondered as he spun her. Adam was displeased to see that he wasn't also given an injury.

"Your parents have lost a lot of business because of Phantom, that ghost vigilante or whatever he is. Reports indicate that if Phantom keeps doing what he's doing, Danny, your family's going to lose everything." Sam told him morosely.

Danny shut his eyes as the song's chorus came around again and their dancing slowed.

"I don't want that to happen to anyone, especially not you. You caught me, now let me so the same. I trust you and I need the same, both of our families depend on it." She told him sincerely.

Danny's eyes flashed open and he gave a solemn nod. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. I trust you, and I want to help. I owe my family a lot." Danny said, more to himself.

"So we're married…for six months to a year." Sam informed him, hoping that wouldn't be a deal breaker.

Danny's eyebrows went up. "Wow…nothing else, right? We don't need to bear a first born son or anything crazy like that?"

Sam snorted and told him no. "Too many movies, sir. No, nothing else."

Danny led her back to the table as the song ended and dessert was being placed on the tables. "Good, we don't need Valerie hating you anymore than she already does."

Sam looked at him to see him crack a smile and she couldn't help but return it back. Not only had she accomplished saying the word, but she was now going to be living it too.

They decided to stay fifteen minutes more before they were ready to leave. The night wasn't getting any younger, and they had much to talk about. They agreed to camp out in Sam's living room for the evening and plan everything out before speaking with her mother. There was no way that they were going into negotiations with Pamela Manson without having a list of demands and a well thought out plan first.

She said goodbye to everyone and made nice with her younger sister before Adam came over to bid them adieu. He hugged Sam tightly and snarled in her ear, "I hope you realize this isn't over."

Sam broke away from the hug sweetly and remarked, "I wouldn't have it any other way. I'd love for you to come see me anytime…anyplace…"

Her mother smiled at her father and replied how nice it was to see them finally getting along. Whoosh…right over her head.

Danny and Sam left to get their coats when Danny asked something that Sam hadn't even considered.

"Hey, Sam…does this mean we have to live together?"

Sam stopped mid-sleeve and frowned slightly. "I…have no idea."

Sam: 0, Universe: 4,922…plus one.


	9. I Now Pronounce You To Be In Trouble

Okay, so I have to tell you that this so far has been my favorite chapter to write. I had so much fun with the newest character you meet (you'll understand why) and I'm dying to know what you all think of her!

* * *

A week had passed since the dinner at her parents' house and the issue of living arrangements had still gone unresolved. Sam had thought it would make sense for them to purchase a home and to just sell it after the agreement had run its course. It made sense, at least to her. The selling market would be much better, meaning that they'd make a much better profit and their situation would have found a solution. Problem solved. Danny however, didn't agree.

They actually hadn't come to an agreement on the situation, which could have been a problem…considering.

Honestly speaking though, even if Sam had offered the suggestion, which she did, she herself wasn't sure of how she felt about this whole living arrangement thing. Turns out…married people have to live together, go figure! Her mother would **not** budge on the matter. They went through an hour and a half arguing on her cell phone, fifteen minutes arguing on the limousine's car phone, and forty-five minutes arguing in person, and yet…here she was, trying to figure out how she and her husband were going to live…together.

This whole thing also brought up another problem. Her overbearing, intrusive, and (as usual) meddling mother decided to ambush she and Danny three days after the dinner. Her mother had mysteriously asked for them to meet at the Manson household, and since they were meaning to speak to her, they agreed. She remembered very clearly, what had happened that day, and how it had gotten her into even more trouble than before…

She waited outside of her apartment for him, not worried about him showing up. Something she could appreciate about him was that he was very punctual. Just as she knew he eventually would, Danny shortly arrived outside of her apartment. What he arrived in however, a large steel blue SUV, urged a smirk out of Sam. He rolled down the window at her expression.

"Such a boy car." She chided, as he opened the door for her.

Danny was wearing sunglasses and an gray open long sleeve button-up with a navy blue shirt underneath it, dark blue jeans and black shoes. She'd seen him dressed like this quite often lately as they'd been spending more and more time together. He shot her a mocking look over his sunglasses, which were currently tipped downward toward his nose. He eyed her as she got in and shut the door.

"Don't knock the Tahoe girlie, or you'll be walking back to Auburn Hills." He threatened. The look that he gave her did his handsome face just the right amount of justice, she'd admit. She imitated zipping her lips closed as she gave a slight wave to Raviv.

She looked around his monster vehicle, and slid her fingers against the light titanium colored leather material. "Okay, okay. Not bad for a gas guzzler." She remarked as he pulled off.

He shot her another look as he pulled his sunglasses to the top of his head. "I'll have you know, it's a hybrid." He told her, stopping at a stop sign.

"Ooh, a _hybrid_. Am I supposed to be impressed?" she asked grinning haughtily.

"Yes, Miss Samantha. As a matter of a fact, I believe that quite frankly, you _are_." He used his best snotty rich person [i.e. Adam] voice. He'd been practicing it lately. Each time it made her laugh, and this time was no different.

"You're getting better at that," she laughed. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and noticed Danny looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She jokingly pointed back to the road. "Before we crash and you flip this monstrosity over." She teased.

She wasn't sure, but she could have sworn he muttered something about driving better than her mother. Even if he had, she couldn't have or wouldn't have argued. Danny made a left turn and they were on the freeway, officially closer to her parents' house.

She attempted to pull her hair back tighter as her scrunchie slipped down, and noticed Danny looking at her again. "What?" she asked, smiling a little.

"Worried about your hair getting messed up or something?" he asked, his finger inching across the dashboard.

She raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. "I don't know…why?"

Before the words were even fully out of her mouth, his finger pressed a button near the steering wheel and the sunroof slid open, sending gusts of wind flying through the Tahoe. She closed her eyes as she felt her scrunchie get sucked up through the newly added hole above her, and her hair went flying all around her. She opened one eye to glare at him as he grinned wickedly.

"I'm going to guess wildly and say…or at least hope for your sake that that had some kind of a purpose." Sam replied as Danny closed the sunroof just as quickly as he had opened it.

Danny shook his head. "Nope. Not at all."

"Such a boy car." She remarked once more.

Moments like these had come often between the two of them as of late. It was like finding a fast friend and bonding with them in school. They found that it was much easier to make the best of their situation, and it was more like working on a project with a friend rather than a marriage. The word 'marriage' didn't send sharp stabs of terror through her spine as it once had before. Maybe it was because the word was previously associated with Adam, and now it was more associative with Danny and their friendship. Sam briefly wondered if she would have made it if she had married Adam, but thought better of it. Adam was Adam and Danny was Danny.

Danny did funny things that made her laugh; things that they would probably have fun doing together. Adam did stupid, malicious things that made her angry; that would probably get her thirty to life. Besides, Danny imitating Adam was much better than the real Adam any day, any time.

They occupied themselves chatting about this and that as they soon found themselves driving up the long driveway to the Manson's large mansion.

"I'm never going to get used to this place…" Danny grumbled.

Sam laughed. "We'll see. It grows on you, I suppose."

Danny turned the car around the long drive and remarked as if he'd just remembered something. "I've got a monstrous car, and yet you live in a mansion."

"Lived." Sam quickly corrected him.

"So! It's the same thing." Danny argued.

"It will be when you say that you _owned_, past tense, a monstrous vehicle. You won't win this." She informed him, preparing to take her seatbelt off.

"Oh yeah, well this is such a _girl house_." Danny taunted, reminding Sam of a middle schooler.

"My grandpa had our house built. I'm going to tell on you." She retaliated, enforcing the fact that he would not win this battle.

Danny gave a smirk and stopped the car in front of the door and turned to Sam. "So where should I put Betsy?"

She looked confused. "Who?"

"Betsy. The car. My baby. My Tahoe. Where should I park her?" he asked.

Sam cast him a bemused look. "You named your monster…you refer to your monster as 'your baby'?"

His sunglasses were on his face again at this point, but she could already imagine the look that he was giving her by the way that his lips were pressed together in mock indignation. "We're ignoring you."

"I bet you are." Sam rolled her eyes and hopped out, trying to flatten her windblown hair as much as she could. Before she even reached the door, Lynne opened it and eyed her with a knowing glance.

"Newlyweds, _indeed_. Maybe the Countess _isn't_ a drunken old hag…okay, well she is…but still."

Sam simply stared at her and mentally willed her to move. Apparently, her telepathy wasn't working just then. Lynne continued.

"Where's the other guilty party?" she asked her older sister.

Betsy was definitely not the kind of name for a car like that. Betsy was the kind of name you gave a nice little car that barely made it over the hill. A giant roaring hunk of metal like Danny's needed a name like Thor, Destroyer, or…

"Moving Monster." Sam explained.

Lynne looked puzzled. "Who's Monster?"

Just as she asked, Danny walked up to them, holding the keys to Betsy (a.k.a. Monster) in his hand, wisps of his hair hanging lithely over his sunglasses. Sam just shrugged, leaving her sister in confusion. She opened the door with her sister and her husband in her wake to see a familiar face excitedly hopping about.

"SAM!" an excited brunette about Lynne's age shrieked.

Sam and Lynne hardly looked fazed by the loud girl, but Danny seemed taken off guard. "Fi," Sam smiled. "I didn't know you got back from…?"

"Malaysia. Mom liked it there…well, at least until she got arrested for trespassing, but that's a whole different story. Basically, they _really_ take their 'Do Not Enter' signs seriously. Especially when it's a government testing facility. So,I heard you got married!" the girl said excitedly.

"Uhm…yeah. I guess I did. Danny, this is Fi. Fi, Danny." Sam introduced. Danny stepped forward to shake Fi's hand only to get pulled into a bone crushing hug. For such a petite girl, she hugged like a full-grown man.

"So—ah." Danny struggled to get the feeling back in his sides. "'Fi'. Is that short for something?" He dully noted Sam's wince at his inquisition.

"Oh, that's actually a very funny story. You see, my parents were actually in the process of divorcing right as my mother's water broke. As in, she was totally just dotting the 'i's and such when 'whoosh!'—water! So, Mom wanted to name me 'Phoenix'. She's really into the whole 'rebirth' thing, Mother Nature, blah blah. But Dad wanted to name me 'Fiona' after his grandmother, who is by relation my like…great grandma, I'm pretty sure. So anyway, since I was born, they were divorced, and the lawyer was just a _little_ bit tipsy, he issued that since they were dividing everything equally, I was supposed to be too." Fi explained.

"I'm…not sure I follow." Danny murmured to Sam.

"Oh, you will." She murmured back.

"So on Sunday through Tuesday, I'm with my mother and I'm 'Phoenix', but on Wednesday through Friday, I'm 'Fiona' 'cause I'm with my dad. On Saturday, I'm usually over here, so I don't really know who I am actually…" she continued, looking puzzled and drifting off into space as if she were trying to figure it out.

"You…have no identity?" Danny deadpanned.

"Oh no, even better! I have two!" Fi beamed enthusiastically.

"But your birth certificate…what's your name on there?" Danny asked in confusion.

Sam and Lynne stood there, bemused at his expression. They'd long ago been through the 'Fi/Fiona/Phoenix' debacle and it only got more confusing each time through.

"Which one? I have two?" Fi told him.

"Tw-…you have…isn't that illegal?" Danny asked, this time looking at Sam, who nodded.

"Fi is home schooled and well…worth more than Oprah. Her parents are three times that." Sam explained to him.

Danny sighed and said, "It's like I've married into the mob."

Sam was bemused as she thought back to the week before. "It's funny. At one point, I thought I did too." Danny laughed for a moment and then stopped.

"Wait, what?"

At that point, Pamela walked in with a blonde haired woman accompanying her. Both were dressed up in pantsuits, though Pamela, never to be outdone by anyone, looked much better and classier in hers. Her smooth red hair was pulled back tautly in an immaculate bun, putting Sam's windblown hair to shame.

Pamela eyed her daughter's attire which consisted of a plain black formfitting v-neck t-shirt with a teal camisole underneath, dark blue ripped jeans, black over the knee boots with a slight heel, and of course, her wind tousled hair. Her eyes lingered on Sam's hair for longer than Sam was comfortable.

Pamela also eyed Danny, but seemed at least remotely pleased. She didn't utter any farm boy comments, as far as Sam could tell. She smoothed her cream colored pantsuit before she continued.

"Samantha, Daniel! I'm sorry to have to have delayed your honeymoon to Cabo, but Vivi said that this just could not wait." Pamela smiled brightly. "Come, come, you two. Lynette, _Fiona_, busy yourselves while we attend to business, dears."

"My mother always did hate yours." Lynne whispered to Fi, who nodded. Danny whispered to Sam, "Cabo?"

Sam shrugged, used to her mother's elaborate lies and allowed herself and Danny to be dragged into the foyer with her mother and the mysterious bottle blonde.

Danny and Sam sat on the loveseat while Pamela and the woman sat on the couch across from them. Separated only by the small tea table, the woman continuously smiled at Danny and Sam, effectively freaking them both out.

"Oh, Pamela. Mrs. Haybern and Mrs. Dupree were absolutely, positively, without a doubt right about these two. They're gorgeous together. Oh, those cheekbones. She does have your cheekbones. Those cheekbones are genetic and I am certain that your grandchildren will have those delightful cheekbones! And his eyes! And _her_ eyes! Oh…Pamela, where does she get her eyes from again?"

"From Jeremy's mother, Ida. I did mention that she'll be coming to stay with us soon, didn't I?" Pamela asked dryly.

"She is?" Sam asked in surprised. She was ignored.

"Oh, you did! I do adore her colorful personality." The woman said in a chipper tone.

"That makes one of us. Oh—right. Daniel, Samantha. This is Vivian Worrill. She's a real estate agent that your father and I met some time back at a function."

So _this _was Vivi.

"Real estate," Sam repeated. "Mother, I told you that Danny and I would figure out what we were going to do on our own." she shot her mother a look.

"'_Danny_'!" Vivian cooed. "Oh, how adorable! And, and now what do you call her?" she questioned Danny.

"Sam?" Danny remarked, unsure of himself. This sent her in a fit of giggles.

"'Danny and Sam'! I love it! It's so original!" Vivian beamed.

Danny and Sam looked at each other.

"I'm really sorry to have you come here like this, ma'am, but Sam and I aren't looking to buy a house right now." Danny tried to explain, avoiding Pamela's dangerous death glare as best as he could.

"I don't have just houses to show, you know. I've got listings on apartments, condominiums and the like. I'd hate to have such a gorgeous couple like yourselves miss out on such an opportunity. Think of your children…running around the backyard…coming home from work to find your wife in the kitchen, cooking in the oven with a bun of your own in the oven, and as you go upstairs—"

"You know, maybe we should stay and hear about the listings, Danny." Sam interrupted quickly.

She didn't mean to, but 'bun in the oven' was the breaking point for her. Danny seemed understanding. He didn't want to know what was upstairs.

"Well," Vivian continued. "Before we start looking at houses, we must think of your wedding."

Danny and Sam both shot each other looks of panic. "Our wedding?" Sam asked. "Why? What about the wedding?"

"Well, Daniel, I'll start with you. We want to base your home on the base of your marriage. So tell me, what do you remember most about your wedding?" Vivian asked.

Pamela seemed interested. Even with all of her meddling, she only knew that the pair of them had gotten married. She didn't know _how_, or what the exact circumstances were. As far as she knew, her daughter spontaneously met a man and got married the night before her wedding to another.

Sam could have had a heart attack and died right there as Danny tried his best to turn a trainwreck into a storybook fantasy. "Uhm…the wedding. Well, there was—"

"Oh, wait!" Vivian stopped him. She reached into her bag to pull out a pair of sparkly periwinkle earplugs. She handed them to Sam with a smile. Sam took them cautiously.

"Usually, the bride and the groom remember the wedding a little differently. I'm letting your husband go first since they usually just remember color and basic essentials. This way we get the basics and then the Cinderella fairy tale, haha. The earplugs are so that his description doesn't affect yours and vice versa." She explained.

It was then and there that Sam decided that she was screwed. _She_ didn't remember the wedding, and since Danny had refused to tell her, _she_ had no way of knowing what _he_ was going to say either. And even if he did tell her, this overly happy real estate lady was plugging her ears up…with glitter! There was no way that he was going to tell her that they'd, well, in layman's terms gotten plastered and hitched. She had no idea what he was going to do, and now she couldn't even fake her way out of this one.

She sat there in silent misery as she watched Danny silently describe a wedding that she was probably at…but that she didn't remember. Was this what it was like when you got amnesia? Knowing that you did something because someone else told you that you did, but just waiting, dying, and anticipating that day when you remember for yourself? Was that what it was like? If so, amnesia sucked, especially when it was drunkenly induced.

Vivian turned to her and gestured for her to pull out the earplugs. From the look on Pamela's face, Danny described a wedding Sam wished that she could have been at, even if unbeknownst to her, it was all fabricated.

Anything had to be better than the drunken mess she'd probably been a part of. Suddenly sullen at her thoughts, she did as Vivian asked and the woman handed them to Danny. Danny gave her a worried thumbs-up and she bit her lip as he put the earplugs in.

"So, Danny just regaled me with the tale of how you eloped. It seemed like a dream. The calla lilies, the violinist, the candles, your dress…your wonderful wedding night at the Antheneum."

Sam reddened. "He told you about that?"

Vivian giggled and said, "Oh of course not, he's a gentlemen. He just laughed a bit and said it was an evening he'd never forget."

'_You and me both…'_ Sam thought with a shudder, even though ironically, she still couldn't remember half of it.

"Well, uhm…that actually sounds like all of it! Danny, unplug!" Sam hurriedly made the signal for him to take the earplugs out, and Danny did so in confusion.

"But, oh, Samantha, I was really hoping to hear you describe it!" Vivian protested.

"No, no, I think Danny got all of it." Sam said nervously.

"Oh, but there are always two sides of a story!" Vivian argued. Sam felt a flare of irritation go up in her. This lady was really not about to give up that easily was she?

"Vivi, didn't I mention it to you? Daniel and Samantha are practically the same person. They even finish each other's sentences at times. Adorable, it is. Really." Pamela said, tightlipped and rather blanch. "Anyhow, Vivian, I just remembered. These two really must be off. You know how foreign places can be with reservations, don't you?"

"Oh," Vivian looked crestfallen. "But…well, I was really hoping to speak with them and help them to get a grip on—"

"Another time, another time." Pamela insisted, practically pulling the woman out of her seat. "We really must meet again."

Pamela looked quickly at the door to spot Lynne and Fi turning to run toward the stairs from their eavesdropping spot. "Lynne, dear. Please escort Ms. Worrill out."

Fi's eye twitched suspiciously. "She called you 'Lynne'." She stage whispered. Lynne, looking just as suspicious, nodded in agreement.

"Aye…evil is afoot."

Danny gave a rather loud snicker and Sam's lips twitched under the ever-so watchful eye of Mrs. Manson. She was not as amused, if she was amused at all, which Sam seriously doubted. She waited until Lynne closed the door behind the woman before she turned a steely glance onto the two of them.

"Something…is wrong. Drastically…horrifically…wrong." She spoke slowly, enunciating dangerously. Her whitened teeth met at the final syllable, almost giving the appearance of a sneer.

"What are you talking about, Mom? Danny and I came, we sat in on your little ambush…" Sam sighed.

"You didn't speak, Samantha." Her mother said. "For twenty and some odd years, I have been at an odds with trying to get you to _shut up_ and _sit quietly_ and perhaps, just perhaps _be agreeable_, and out of the clear blue May skies, you do so. You don't say a word. One word."

"Mother, are you serious? You set us up with the Stepford real estate agent from Hell, and you expect me to speak with her? Of course I was quiet! She said 'bun in the oven', Mom! 'Bun in the oven'!" Sam protested, sitting with her arms crossed.

"Nevermind that, you tell me the truth and you tell me right now. And don't you sell me that pipe story that _he_ told. Everyone in this damn town, thankfully except for Vivi, knows that wedding calla lilies are impossible to get without a three-month advancement. So you are either telling me that your act of eloping was an occasion to be missed, or that you planned this ahead of time to ruin your father!" Pamela snapped.

"What? Don't be ridiculous! I didn't even know about Dad!" Sam protested.

"Of course you didn't, no one knew! But don't think you have me fooled for a moment if you think I don't know about how much you wanted to get rid of Adam! How much did she pay you to besmirch our family?!" Pamela demanded to know of Danny.

"She didn't pay me anything, Mrs. Manson. The wedding was a complete and total drunken accident." He tried to explain calmly.

"_**Drunken accident**_?" Pamela hissed. "_**A drunken accident**_? Are you telling me that…that…oh my…oh…my…you were _inebriated_ at your wedding?"

Danny looked just as confused as Sam felt. "Mother, would you please calm down! We figured that you already knew about it! We met in a **bar**…the night before my wedding."

Pamela seemed to be ignoring her, murmuring about how anyone could have seen them. "What _exactly_ happened at your wedding that you won't even speak about it?" she asked Sam.

Sam bit her lip. "I…don't remember."

"Oh! You don't remember! Oh, how delightful!" Pamela laughed deliriously. "So you mean for all you two know, you aren't even married!"

"What are you talking about?" Sam sighed, growing tired already.

"If neither one of you remembers what transpired that evening, for all you know you could be married illegally…or not even married at all!" Pamela snapped.

"No, Mother. We are married. I said that I didn't remember the wedding, not that Danny didn't remember the wedding." Sam explained carefully.

"Oh, the farm boy recalls! And you do not? How do you know that he isn't making it up to get what little money we have, Samantha?" Pamela shrieked as if Danny were not sitting there.

"Mrs. Manson, that's not what happened at all. I didn't even know who Sam was until—" Danny was interrupted by Pamela.

"Oh, you just save it. Either way, you both are in breach of the contract." She remarked angrily, referring to the contract she'd had both of them sign three days before. "Although now I see that this matter could have been avoided if you aren't actually married…seeing as we could have swept this under the rug and you could be Mrs. Samantha Cain…"

Sam made a disgusted face. Samantha Cain sounded like the name of a disturbed housewife to her. Samantha Fenton…it was warm and it was a name that she could—she stopped her thoughts. She was getting a little too used to the word 'marriage' now. Her mother was still speaking.

"…and now anyone can argue that your marriage isn't real! You know Adam is feeling jilted, and if he gets his hands on the records…or goes looking for records that aren't even there!"

Sam looked over at Danny, who looked to be a mix of scared, confused, and anxious. She felt bad. He never asked for this…then again, neither did she.

"Alright. You obviously aren't happy about this, but there is nothing that we can do about it now." Sam said calmly. At this, Pamela stood up, looking as determined as ever.

"Not only is there something that you can do, there is something that you _will_ do." She told them both, grating her teeth.

As Pamela glowered at them, Lynne carefully made her way into the room. "Uhm…that lady's gone now."

"Good. Lynette, go and see if your bridesmaids dress fits." Pamela ordered. Lynne looked panicked.

"About that…see…me and Fi kinda burned it when we found out Sam wasn't getting married, and—" Lynne fidgeted under her mother's gaze.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Why is Lynne looking for the dress?…Mom…" Sam trailed off in horror.

"You two," Pamela gestured to them, "are getting married."

"Married?" Danny choked out.

"Yes, farm boy. As in 'kiss the bride'? Lynne! Get me the phone!" she stormed out of the room.

Sam and Danny stared at each other in frozen silence…frozen, horrified silence.

"You'd better get out of here before she makes you practice the wedding march again…" Lynne hissed. Without being told twice, Sam grabbed Danny and yanked him out of the room and toward the front door.

Pamela rushed back into the room with Sam's wedding veil and whipped her head around in search of the two of them as the front door closed quietly. "Where did they go?!" she demanded.

Lynne shrugged as Fi joined her in the room. "Cabo?" she guessed, causing Pamela to glare at her daughter's friend.

* * *

"—and did you hear how she just announces it to us like we have no say in it whatsoever?! 'Oh, you're getting married! Kiss the bride!', you know what? She can kiss my—"

"We can't get married again." Danny interrupted.

Sam sighed deeply. "As much as I'm against this too, it looks like we have to. She has that damned contract."

The pair of them were currently in Betsy speeding down the freeway. Danny had rolled the windows down to cool Sam off from her tirade. So far she'd been ranting for twenty minutes and didn't seem to be letting up soon. She'd ranted about her mother, the real estate lady, about her mother for bringing the real estate lady…

"We…have to?" Danny asked, clutching the steering wheel.

Sam glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Being around him so much had taught her many things about him, such as his habits. For instance when he was angry, he tapped his foot, when he was embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck, and when he was anxious or nervous he grasped onto things, or clasped his hands together. Since he was driving and couldn't do the second one, she picked up on the first. She decided to ignore it for the time being.

"Yes, Danny, I think we do. Though I hate to admit it, my mother is right. Even though Adam isn't jilted, he has this vendetta that he isn't going to let go. If he finds out anything about our wedding, even just the fact that it was a drunken catastrophe, we could be in trouble. My parents could lose out on their business and your parents—"

Danny mumbled something under his breath that she couldn't possibly have heard correctly. He was staring straight ahead and his knuckles were turning white from clenching the steering wheel with such force.

"What did you just say?" Sam questioned him, eyeing him carefully. Danny looked even more nervous than ever, he'd never tell her, but she was reminding him of her mother just then.

"I said…Ihaven'ttoldthemyet…" Danny mumbled.

"One more time…"

"I haven't told them yet. I haven't told my parents yet." He said more clearly, still not looking at her.

Sam blinked. "You haven't told them yet? What do you mean you haven't told them yet?! My parents found out the very next day!"

"Because you were supposed to get married the very next day! You can't tell me that if you could have you wouldn't have withheld that bit of information for just a bit." Danny argued.

"I wouldn't even know how to _think_ that! In case you haven't noticed, my mother is a supernatural creature from the depths of Hades with incredible insight! And either way, I would have had to tell them because like you said, I was getting married!" Sam argued back.

"To a complete asshole! If he weren't so bent on destroying your life we wouldn't have to get re-married in the first place! What, did your parents just pick out the first trust fund brat and throw you towards him?" Danny snapped, ripping his sunglasses off the top of his head and throwing them into the backseat.

"Don't you bring my parents into this! Not when the real problem is that you haven't even told yours yet! And you have no right to talk about psychotic exes. Not when your ex-girlfriend is a screaming banshee! Adam wasn't even my fiancé by choice, you chose to be with that lunatic!" Sam yelled, adding volume to her voice.

The wind whipped through the car, amplifying the sounds of their argument. In anger, Danny only sped the car up, easily breezing past other vehicles around them.

"I haven't spoken to them in a week! Just a week, it is not that big of a deal, Sam!" Danny told her, ignoring what she said about Valerie. He wasn't going to argue with what he knew to be true.

"I'm sorry, were you or were you not paying attention? A lot can happen in a week!" She yelled, flashing her wedding band at him.

"I'll tell them soon!" Danny yelled back.

"When?!" Sam demanded to know.

"Now." Danny said quietly. He rolled the windows up and slowed the car down. "We can go tell my parents right now."

Sam looked at him and rubbed her throat gently, not used to yelling, especially not at Danny. "…We just got into our first fight."

Danny looked over at her and flashed her that smile of his. "Yeah, I know. We're pretty good at this marriage thing…so now we'll see if we're any good at the wedding thing."

Sam smiled back at him. "So…I get to meet the first Mrs. Fenton." She liked that idea, she realized.

Danny nodded. "Yeap. We've just gotta make a quick stop first."

"Okay. Where?" Sam asked.

"My friend Tucker's."


	10. The Ectoplasmic Grass On The Other Side

Twelve pages of apologetic feeling, right here people! I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I worked my butt off on it though. And since I've been such a bad updater I didn't split the chapter and I am giving you not the usual eight…but twelve pages of chapter, right here in celebration of the tenth chapter. Yay, we've reached double digits, and there's a flashback in this chapter that I know a couple of you were excitingly waiting for.

**OH! **And since many of you were wondering what the cast looked like, I have gotten **REAL** pictures. That's right, real ones! So now you can not only envision them through their personalities, but their appearance too. Obviously, the only thing different is the eye colors and any piercing they may have (like Lynne, for instance).

**AND** don't forget to vote on the new poll on my author's page about CLV!

Okay, have fun!

* * *

Sam's throat still felt raw and irritated from the yelling match she'd just gotten out of with Danny. The day had been eventful to say the least. She'd met the Stepford real estate agent from Hell, almost gave her mother a stroke (for the third time that month…seriously, she was starting to give her sister a good name…), got into her first fight with Danny (and won) and she was now on her way to meeting Mr. and Mrs. Fenton for the very first time. She was going to meet her _in-laws_.

The feeling of anxiousness and excitement was new to her. When she had to meet the Cains all she felt was bitterness and anger. The first thing that Mrs. Cain had told her was that she was quote-unquote "a blanch little thing" and that she could "use a tan".

Sam then bitingly remarked that just because _she_ preferred to look like she got attacked by a bag of Doritos, didn't mean that she would like the same to happen to _her_. Adam's mother hadn't liked her since. Sam couldn't say she minded.

Danny hadn't spoken since he'd announced where they were going, and she had decided to leave him be. Though they were obviously much calmer now and there was no angry tension looming around them, there was a different kind of tension. It was an anxious, troublesome tension that left an odd feeling in the bottom of her stomach. Sam felt bad for him, honestly. Having her mother find out was difficult, yes, but it was also laced in revenge on her part.

It was like a swift kick to society and all of it's rules. It was like breaking the hold her mother had on her, and rebelling against what she'd intended.

…Of course it did all come back to bite her you-know-where since it turned out she was secretly being pimped out for her family's benefit. She sighed internally.

'_You win some and you lose some.' _She thought, glancing at Danny.

Back to the guilt she held, her parents finding out wasn't as bad as what Danny was about to do. Danny was an amazing person, who no doubt, was raised by amazing people. Yes, she realized that with her own situation as a prime example, it only took one parent to make a kid come out halfway decent, but in Danny's case she just felt that both of his parents were as sweet and gentle as he was.

They featured him in a ghost commercial, for cripes sake. He gets a cameo in a commercial…and she gets pimped out to The Blonde Devil In Armani. Guilt was eminent!

So for Danny to have to go and tell his beloved mother and father that he went off and married some strange girl that they'd never met, or even heard of before would be hard. She could understand that. Perhaps that was why he seemed so jumpy before.

His face was still set in a concentrated expression, and Sam decided to take a page out of Lynne's book and break the silence.

"So where are we headed to again?" she asked, though she remembered exactly where he'd told her.

"Tucker's place. He lives in Amity." Danny replied as they passed a sign on the freeway marking a shorter distance to Amity Park.

"Amity…doesn't _Valerie_ live in Amity?" Sam questioned, her voice taking on a different tone.

Danny smirked, but didn't look at her. That was all the answer she needed. Sam groaned before another silence filled the car. At least he was smiling…even if it was at her sake. Soon they were off of the freeway and in Amity Park. Flashbacks of the day she met Valerie filled her mind. She was seriously _**not**_ a nice girl! She self-consciously slid her tongue over her teeth again. _Not all Sams had bucked teeth…_

"Hey…Valerie wouldn't have…you know…told your parents already, would she?" Sam wondered.

Danny shook his head and stopped at a red light with a stiff laugh. "Nah, she wouldn't. My family and Valerie aren't exactly on speaking terms." He turned to her for the first time and noticed the look on her face, causing him to smile again.

"It isn't because of you." He assured her. "I haven't told them yet, remember?"

Sam nodded. "So…have you spoken to Valerie since then?"

It was a stupid question, she knew. Of course he hadn't spoken to her since then. She hated him…she hated _her_. And since he was with her at the moment, there would be no way possible that he would have ever had contact with—

"Yeap. A couple times." He answered simply.

Okay…so maybe there was some way possible. She'd been expecting a flat-out no, or maybe even a joke. That…was not a joke. And it certainly wasn't a 'no'! His response swirled in her head repeatedly.

"Oh." She responded lamely.

There was nothing wrong with him speaking to Valerie. After all, that was his girlfriend before she'd gone and stolen him away. Maybe they would be getting back together. It was really none of her business…really…

Danny seemed to come out of his own thoughts and notice that something was up with Sam. He couldn't figure it out though…Sam couldn't even figure it out. It wasn't like she was jealous though. What in the hell would she have to be jealous for?!

In an obvious attempt to lighten her mood, Danny turned on the radio.

"—_And here's a song from Travis V. to Julie G. Julie, Travis loves ya, girl! Here's a song that most of our KWPP listeners should be able to sing along to!" _the radio personality declared. There was a short pause before the intro to the song came on.

Sam was instantly reminded of pink…but not justany pink. _Cosmopolitan Pink…_

* * *

**"_You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset_**

**_She's going off about something that you said_**

**'**_**Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do"**_

_Sam smiled brightly at Danny as they stood in front of a Taylor Swift impersonator and a guy who'd just printed his license off the internet three minutes before, just for them. She'd walked down the makeshift aisle of the '24-Hour Celebrity Wedding Chapel' with the impersonator and they were all ready and set for their vows. Danny had wanted to go first. He cleared his throat as "You Belong With Me" continued to play in the background._

"_Sam…you're the most incredible person I've ever known…even though I haven't known you for that long…I just want to marry you. Your eyes…are like Barney…but better. They're a different shade of purple. They're so sparkly…I almost want to call them glitter, but I won't…because glitter is like the herpes of the arts and crafts world." He took a moment to send a meaningful look toward the impersonator, who was wearing a replica of the real Taylor Swift's glittery silver gown._

"_But back to the point, Sam…I want to marry you…and have Barney-eyed babies, and grow old together." Danny told her drunkenly. His shirt sleeves were bunched up sloppily and his eyes, though they were slightly red-rimmed were filled with love and adoration toward her. _

_Sam smiled cheekily. "Ditto…and the only reason why I'm not saying more is because I'm dizzy and I feel like I'm going to throw up on Taylor Swift." _

_"Taylor" backed up warily and the__ man took this as his cue and hurried the ceremony along. He finally came to the end as Sam teetered the left. _

"_I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs.…" He took a moment to take a piece of paper out of his pocket and read the last name scrawled upon it. "Fen-tone…wait is that an 'e'? Whatever. You may now kiss the bride." _

_Danny seemed happy to do so as he heartily grabbed Sam and they began to kiss sloppily in front of the stranger and "Taylor". The song continued in the background…_

* * *

The song continued in the background…

'_**She wears high heels, I wear t-shirts**_

_**She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers'**_

"Oh…my…GOD." Sam paled as she was brought back to reality. Danny turned toward her quickly before turning back to the road. Sam sat gaping in the passenger seat. Suddenly her seatbelt felt too tight. She was headed toward breathing mode...she was spiraling...headfirst into breathing mode...

"What, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Taylor Swift…we got married to Taylor Swift?!" she cried. Danny glanced at the radio sheepishly and hurriedly turned the radio off.

"Hey, you picked it. It was either that or 'Wannabe' by the Spice Girls. If I remember correctly, you pitched a fit because there was no Ginger Spice, and that's who you wanted to walk you down the aisle." Sam looked horrified.

"I will **never** drink again." She declared, trying her best to ignore the amused face Danny was wearing…she wanted to smack him.

There was yet another silence before Danny's hand inched toward a familiar place on the dashboard.

"You touch that sunroof, and I will hurt you." Sam threatened.

Not too long after, they finally pulled up to a row of similar looking apartment buildings. They were all tall and brick red with rectangular hedges along the outside near short porches, accompanied with wrought-iron banisters leading to the front doors. Danny told her that they'd arrived.

"And there's Tuck right there." He nodded toward an African-American man standing outside of one of the five buildings.

Evidently, he lived in the third one. She studied him quickly. He was leaning against the side of one of the apartments, near the front door with his arms crossed. He wore a red beret that was currently pulled to the side, a black t-shirt with a gold Star Trek emblem on the front, and loose fitting olive cargo pants with about four pockets on either side. Sam was reminded that she wasn't a fan of cargo pants. She never knew what to do with all of the pockets.

His glasses currently shielded his eyes, though he wasn't close enough to them to see what color they were or if his eyes were even open. The frown on his face though, conveyed more emotion than his eyes could have.

"He looks angry…is he related to Valerie?" Sam questioned. Danny laughed and turned off the engine. Sam was put off…she wasn't kidding. It was a serious question.

Danny unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to stretch behind him to retrieve the glasses he'd thrown back there. Sam slowly unbuckled her seatbelt as he did so.

"So does this 'Tucker' know?" Sam asked, eyeing Tucker's frown again.

Danny gave a grunt as he reached for his glasses with a nod. Sam looked over only to see his butt…his really cute butt…and hurriedly turned away to face the windshield and the view of the car he'd parked in front of, with a blush.

'_How many times do I have to tell you to stop checking him out?!_' she mentally berated herself. She'd been doing so well, too…

"Yeah," Danny answered, coming back into his seat. "This is where I've been staying."

Sam gave him a look. "So this guy you tell, but your flesh and blood, no?"

Danny shrugged at her. "Tucker is flesh and blood. C'mon, he's been waiting to meet you." Danny got out of the car.

"I find that hard to believe!" she called out as he came around to the other side. Danny opened the passenger door as an indication for her to get out, but Sam stayed glued right to her seat.

She'd been anxious to meet his parents, not this frowning stranger. Danny looked puzzled as to why she wouldn't move, so Sam gestured behind him. Danny turned around and laughed. "He's not frowning at _you_. Would you come on?" He grinned.

Sam allowed herself to be gently pulled from the car only to see that the man actually wasn't frowning at her…he was frowning at an electronic device on the ground. She raised an eyebrow and followed Danny as he got closer to his friend.

'Tucker' finally made eye contact and shouted "Fenton!", immediately breaking his frown into a grin. Sam watched in amusement as he and Danny did a guy hug and an intricate handshake.

'_Boy car, boy handshake…it's official. He's fifteen-years-old._' She thought to herself with a smile. She stood there semi-awkwardly as they greeted each other for what were only moments, but felt much longer. Danny then turned to introduce her.

"Sam, Tucker. Tucker, Sam." Danny said, seeming like an eager boy wanting to show something exciting to a friend. Sam extended her hand to shake his, only to have Tucker take off his beret and grab her extended hand to kiss it.

"Charmed." He told her, urging a laugh out of her.

"It's nice to meet you too." She told him. He didn't seem so bad.

Danny took her hand away from his face and gave Tucker a look. "Get your own shotgun wife." He said, earning his own look from Sam. She resented that…

She briefly wondered if he felt trapped by the whole agreement, or as if there was no other alternative for him. Would Danny have helped her if it hadn't been for the fact that his family was in dire need also? Danny asking if she was coming took her away from her thoughts. Another look revealed that Tucker was already inside the apartment and making his way up the stairs as Danny held the door open for her.

"Spacing out again? Remember anything good?" Danny teased. She offered him a slight smile as she followed him inside.

"Wait, what about that thing?" Sam asked, looking at the smashed device on the ground.

"Just leave it." Danny told her, probably knowing something about Tucker and the electronic that she did not.

The hallway of the apartment smelled like lemon-scented cleaner and freshly polished stairs. It was nice and quaint with a sort of 'downtown' feel to it. It was the kind of place her mother never would have set foot in, but Sam felt comfortable, even if it was just a hallway with stairs.

She followed behind Danny, concentrating on not staring at his butt, even if his jeans did hug it in all of the right places…and listened as Tucker explained to Danny that he was ready to begin dating again.

Danny muttered something along the lines of, "Yeah, I see that…" as Sam averted her eyes to the steps. What?! Those jeans seriously hugged in all the right places…

Of course, due to she and the universe's ongoing battle (that she was _still_ losing), she tripped on the stairs and knocked her head against…you guessed it. Danny stopped and looked behind him, causing Tucker to stop also.

"Aw, she's clumsy too. Looks like you two were made for each other." They both ignored him and Danny helped Sam up and told her to walk beside him. Sam was secretly grateful, especially when Danny turned his attention back to Tucker.

"Oh really?" he asked, helping Sam over a broken step that he must have memorized.

"Yeah, I mean the whole thing with Lena made me realize how much I was missing out on. There is so much out there that you can't just be tied down…you know, except for you two. You two are golden." He backtracked. Danny rolled his eyes at him.

"You do remember that it was Lena who broke up with _you_, right?" Danny questioned as they reached the landing. The three of them walked toward an apartment with a plain black door as Tucker remarked, "Either way."

Tucker opened the door and Danny held it open for Sam after he walked in. Danny followed shortly as Sam took in her surroundings. You could tell that guys lived in the place.

"You know, as my best friend…no, as my _brother_, you should really support me." Tucker continued. Danny closed the door and looked at him strangely.

"What are you talking about, Foley? I support you enough." Danny said, gesturing for Sam to take a seat on the black leather sofa behind her. She did so, and continued to observe what was essentially Danny's crash pad and Tucker's living quarters.

The walls were a plain eggshell-white and they looked a little dingy from wear. There were various posters of video games she'd only before heard of (...okay, she'd only heard of three of them), a beer sign for a foreign beer that was currently plugged in but not lit, shelves scattered with different electronics (some broken), and what looked to be a hole that someone punched into a wall…she hoped it wasn't Danny though he didn't seem to be the violent type at all.

The floor consisted of hard wood and a burgundy rug that covered most of the surface of the living room. She squirmed into the couch—it was comfortable…and there was a Nasty Burger wrapper between one of the cushions. What the hell was a 'Nasty Burger' and why would anyone want any?

From her spot on the couch she could see a room with what looked like a bed with navy blue sheets. She momentarily wondered if Danny had slept there until she noticed a familiar aroma coming from the couch. The couch smelled like Danny. So apparently he'd been camped out here…She really needed to figure out their living situation before he got a hernia or something.

"Yeah, okay. You support me. But there is so much more you could be doing, man." Tucker informed him, walking into the kitchen.

"Like what?" Danny questioned skeptically.

"Like…giving me your girl." Tucker informed him, grinning.

Sam's eyes went wide. Tucker was nice and all but…well…you know…she was having trouble with the one guy as it was. She wasn't like Paulina! She couldn't do multiples! She was bad at math and she was bad at relationships. Putting the two of those together was just like damning her to live with her mother for all eternity. It just shouldn't be done. EVER.

"What?" Danny and Sam asked in unison.

"You don't use her very often! This is the first time I've really gotten to see her, and it isn't fair because technically, I was there when you first picked her up!" Tucker argued.

"You were on the phone." Danny deadpanned, looking irritable.

Sam blanched. She did remember that Tucker had been on the phone with Danny when they'd first met. But Tucker was making it sound like she was an object instead of a per—…wait.

"There is no way in Hell. I'll kill you before you touch her." Danny argued stiffly. Now it was all starting to make sense.

"Monster? You two are fighting over Monster?" Sam asked, rolling her eyes.

They both gave her looks of utter confusion. "Monster? What, you have pet names for each other now?" Tucker joked.

Once again, Danny was less than amused.

"No, no. That's what his big blue killing machine is named." Sam explained, fighting off a grin. She suddenly found the ceiling to be very interesting as outraged sputters began to erupt from her husband's mouth.

"Y-You nicknamed Betsy? Y-You can't nickname Betsy! You don't even like her!" Danny argued, crossing his arms. He looked like an aggravated child, and Sam secretly found it adorable.

Tucker shrugged. "Look, whatever her name is…Danny, c'mon." He urged.

Danny took a moment to look at her, then at Tucker, and then back again. His mouth was set in a frown that looked somewhat out of place on his usually smiling face, and he had a crease in his forehead. His usually bright and shining eyes were still just as bright, but they looked as if they were calculating something. It was about a whole minute before Danny responded.

"There are Darwin awards for people like you two…" He muttered, almost so low that Tucker and Sam almost didn't hear him. He finally sighed, sending his features back to their normal appearance almost at once as he remarked, "Fine. Fine, fine, fine."

Sam surprised herself by giving a small laugh, and Danny surprised her even more by laughing too. "And here I was worried you two wouldn't get along. First time meeting, I get conned out of my pride and joy."

Tucker, who was now holding his hand out expectantly for the keys, turned to Sam. "You should be offended, you know. The car means more than you." Sam gave a smiling shrug.

"Hey, that isn't true. I just have a different love for _Betsy_ than I have for Sam." Danny argued. Tucker's eyebrows went up, as he put his hand down and stared at his best friend.

"So…you're saying that you love Sam?" He questioned as if said person were not in the very same room, looking incredibly uncomfortable at the question.

"Well yeah, I mean we have a…marital love…kind of." Danny struggled to explain. His response only seemed to intrigue his bespectacled friend even more so.

"Marital…wait a minute, you guys are sleeping together?!" Tucker exclaimed. "You didn't tell me you were together _like that_! Do you know how many newlywed jokes I have that could have potentially gone to waste?! If you two are doing the deed then the whole living arrangement thing should already be figured out!"

"No!" Sam cried, her face red. It was one thing for a drunken party guest to assume that they were…_you know_…but it was another thing for a sober and fully functioning person to come to that conclusion! Again, she was not Paulina!

Oh, and 'marital love'? Really, Danny? Was that the best explanation that he could come up with? If the Countess had heard that she would be running around screeching about 'marital relations' again, which Sam really didn't need. She considered making another Paulina analogy, but she was really trying to limit the amount of time Paulina spent around her both physically and mentally.

"Tuck, we aren't together that way. I didn't mean it that way." Danny quickly explained, avoiding eye contact with Sam. "And we'll get our living situation figured out soon."

"Good." Tucker remarked without missing a beat. "I'm sick of seeing you on my couch." He joked. His face then went serious, as if he had to get something off of his chest.

"Alright, I've just got to ask this. Do you two honestly think this is going to work?" Tucker asked somewhat skeptically. "I mean, Sam, you rock. You're probably the coolest girl he's ever brought around here—and if that gets repeated to Valerie, I don't know a damn thing—but you two aren't in love, you don't have romantic feelings for each other as far as I can tell, and you're sort of trapped together for a year. Dan, I'm your best friend and I know you. You don't do too well with being trapped in situations."

This statement worried Sam, and brought her back to her thoughts from before. In any other case, she would have second-guessed herself but here was his best friend; someone who knew him far better than she, confirming her fears. Plus, Valerie had already practically spelled it out for her that he basically had a phobia for commitment.

"I don't feel trapped." Danny said, honestly. "Sam and I are completely upfront with each other and we don't have any secrets at this point."

Tucker raised an eyebrow at his best friend. "_No secrets_?" Tucker asked, almost cryptically.

"We know what we need to know about each other right now. The details don't matter as much yet." Danny answered. He continued, "We're in a mutual agreement, we get along, and we stick together. _That's_ what I meant by 'marital love', you nimrod."

"Yeah, but that ain't what it means…" Tucker murmured.

Sam, feeling a little left out of a conversation where her response was actually warranted, added in, "We'll be okay…we're figuring things out as we go, just like a real marriage…only…you know, not." She smiled.

Tucker smiled back. "Okay, I'm just concerned as a friend…to you both. As long as you two feel this is going to work out…" he trailed off.

Danny seemed adamant. "Yes, we do, because it is."

Tucker clearly wanted to argue more, but let it go. "So Sam you look a little weary from battle. Can I get you a burger or a soda or something?"

Sam, glad that the tension had dissipated, shook her head politely. "No thank you, I'm a recyclo-vegetarian."

"What?" Danny and Tucker questioned, for different reasons.

"Yeah...I don't eat meat." Sam offered as an explanation.

"He didn't tell me that." Tucker said, obviously referring to Danny

"I didn't know!" Danny defended himself.

Tucker sighed in shame, turning to his best friend. "And you didn't know that? Great man of the house you are, you don't even know what to feed her! You're both doomed."

Sam actually hadn't realized that Danny didn't know about what she ate…or actually, what she didn't eat. Now that she thought about it, the two hadn't actually sat down together to eat besides at the dinner three nights before. Even then, neither one of them was really focused on what the other was (or wasn't) eating. They were more concerned with Adam.

Danny glowered at his statement. "She isn't a pet, Tuck. I don't have to _feed_ _her_ anything." By this point, Danny was closer to her, giving his best friend a defiant look.

Tucker rolled his eyes. "And now you just seem like a wife-abuser." This comment earned Tucker another look. He seemed to be getting a lot of those from Danny. Sam briefly wondered if this was a regular occurrence.

She sat in amusement, listening to them bicker back and forth for another few minutes until she glanced at the clock (which happened to be a pig with a bib, fork and knife wearing a hungry expression) and turned to her beloved husband.

"Uhm, not to rush or anything, but…we are still meeting your parents, right?" she questioned, interrupting the two.

Danny turned toward the clock while Tucker turned toward her and then back to Danny. "Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute, she's meeting Jack and Maddie?" His mood seemed to have shot back to jubilance at this news.

Danny gave him a dark look. "Yes, Tucker. Sam is going to meet my parents today."

The confirmation of their impending visit sent Tucker into howls of laughter, much to Danny's chagrin. Danny's darkened look increased and he looked ready to punch his friend. Sam on the other hand was neither irritated nor laughing hysterically.

She was confused. One minute he's friendly, then he's playing soothsayer, and then he's howling with laughter? He was like an older male version of Lynne. She suspected them both of having Split Personality Disorder.

"I don't understand." Sam murmured to Danny who raggedly ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh, you will." Danny sighed. He then turned to Tucker whose laughter had died down some, though he was leaning against the back of the couch for support with one arm and clutching his stomach with the other. Sam felt like she was missing something.

"I'm s-…I'm so-rry. I ju-st…I just…oh…oh man." Tucker laughed, standing upright again. He took his glasses off to wipe tears from his eyes. Sam was definitely missing something.

"Is it bad that I'm meeting your parents?" Sam wondered, her anxious fears returning.

Maybe she'd been wrong about the Fentons. Maybe they were just as psychotic as her family...if that were possible. It was reasonable to say that she'd come out as a normal person, right? So maybe the more sociopathic tendencies your family had, the nicer of a person you came out to be or something. She'd have to Google that…

"No, no!" Tucker backpedaled. "Jack and Maddie are amazing people, really. They're just…you'll have to get used to them at first."

This relaxed Sam a bit. "Oh, well my family's the same way. My family has so many issues, I'm sure I'll love your parents." Sam said, trying to convince not only Tucker and Danny, but also herself.

Danny sighed. "Sam…there's families with social issues like your family…and then there are families with mental issues like mine."

Tucker snickered, earning a hard shove from Danny. Boys really were so violent with one another…

"So…" Tucker trailed off. "How long exactly am I allowed to borrow Monster?"

Sam grinned. She liked Tucker…even if Danny had just shoved him again.

It was not fifteen minutes later (full of more insults and shoving, of course) that Danny was driving through Amity Park on the way to his parents' house. Sam was back in the passenger seat, and at Tucker's insistence he sat in the back.

"So aren't your parents going to be a little shocked when you show up with a little white girl?" Tucker asked bluntly. Sam turned her head to him and made a face at him, which Danny caught in the rear view mirror, resulting in him giving the smirk Sam had become so familiar with.

"They weren't too surprised when I showed up with Val, so I don't see the big thing there." Danny answered, putting his glasses back on. Sam didn't want to say anything, but she secretly wondered if he had an obsession with them.

"Either way, you're bringing home a different girl when the last they checked, you were with Valerie. On top of that, you're married to this one." Tucker reminded him, as if he could have forgotten.

Danny chose not to answer him and turned toward Sam. "Hey, if you're going to throw up, stick your head out the window." He said, half-kidding. Sam must have looked more nervous than she thought. "I've seen her get sick. It's not pretty." He confessed to Tucker.

Sam, using their violent behavior as her internal excuse, pinched him. "You're a bad comforter!" she accused. "What happened to 'It'll be fine' and 'Don't worry'?"

Danny shrugged. "I don't want to lead you home under false pretenses. Especially since we're here."

Before Sam could respond, they pulled up in front of a row of houses that looked quite similar…except for one. About two houses from where Danny was parking the car, there was a house that stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn't the simple type of difference that you might only pick up if you were really paying attention. No, this was the type of difference that would have her mother on the floor clutching what little there was left of her heart. From the giant 'FentonWorks' sign that adorned the top of the house, Sam began to grasp a slight understanding of Tucker's reaction and Danny's worry.

The house itself was nice. It was a red brick house with six windows on the front of the house, a strong looking ash colored wood door, and a quaint stony stairway leading up to the entrance…it was just the giant metal dome equipped with mounds of equipment hovering over the sign that threw her off. From where she sat she could make out tons of spectral telescopes and what she presumed to be ghost rays. It was like a mad scientist's lab had thrown up on top of the house.

"Welcome to FentonWorks." Danny sighed.

They made their way toward the house after Tucker had hopped into the front seat and driven off rather excitedly. Danny cleared his throat nervously and grabbed her hand to lead her to the peculiar looking house.

"Alright, so there are my parents…Jack and Maddie. My mom is your typical middle-aged mother…she just wears a hazmat suit most of the time. If she likes you enough, expect one for Christmas." Danny explained. Sam could only nod.

"Same with my dad, except he's a little bit more on the eccentric side. He's also got a really big thing about fudge…don't ask. And he's kind of…okay, really clumsy. So I apologize in advance for any bodily harm you'll experience. Also, I love my parents to death, I swear I do, but **do not** under any circumstances eat **anything** in that house, because there is a big chance it'll bite back." Danny continued hurriedly as they neared the place. He seemed to notice something that made his worry increase.

"Oh…crap. And it's Monday…there's my sister's car. She comes over to visit my parents every Monday. Jazz is a psychiatrist. If she offers to analyze, probe, inquire, or anything else, you say no." He sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and took a ragged breath. "You ready for this?"

Sam squeezed his hand and asked, "I have no idea. The better question is, are you? The last time you mentally prepped me for a meeting, I almost died."

Danny nodded and then smiled at her. "They're going to love you, Sam…I'm just worried about you not loving them so much. They're…"

"Different?" Sam tried to fill in.

"Weird." Danny concluded.

He took another deep breath full of imaginary courage and rang the doorbell. Almost in an instant, a redheaded young woman who didn't look much older than them opened the door.

"Danny? What are you doing here? And who's this?" she asked.

"Jazz, this is Sam. Are Mom and Dad home?" Danny asked, stepping into the threshold of the house and bringing Sam with him.

"Yeah, they should be around here somewhere. Hi, Sam. I'm Jazmine, but you can call me Jazz. How do you know Danny?" the redhead pondered. She had very pretty turquoise colored eyes and her fiery hair went down a little past her shoulders. She was currently smiling, revealing her pearly white teeth that appeared to be whitened, but for all Sam knew she could have just been a _really_ good brusher.

Jazz wore a taupe colored top with no straps that stopped at the top of her thigh, and under that she wore dark colored nicely pressed jeans that balanced out the top and made her appear professional. A black belt hung loosely around her waists, tilted sideways to look more fashion-savvy. To top off her ensemble she wore black ballerina flats with tiny black bows on them. Pamela would have applauded.

"Heh, Jazz we're gonna get to that, but first I need to speak to Mom and Dad." Danny told his sister, sidestepping her and leading Sam further into the house. With Jazz out of her way momentarily, Sam was able to take further notice of the Fenton home.

Right in front of her was a staircase leading upstairs. It was only half the size of her parents' grand staircase, but it had a low railing, allowing Sam to just make out the top of a doorway or two above them. Opposite the stairs was a telephone, and next to that was a doorway leading to what, from where she stood, looked like the kitchen.

To the right, there was another doorway but Sam couldn't see what was it led to. To the far right of the room she saw a purple curtain, which due to the slight crack between the openings, she could see hid several buttons, levers, and switches. One large red button behind a thin wall of glass, and a plaque caught her attention. There were words on it, but she could only make out the word, 'EMERGENCY' in big bold red letters. It seemed like the Fentons were really serious about this ghost hunting thing.

"Mom? Dad?" Danny called out. His sister's smile was now a look of confusion and curiosity. Two pairs of footsteps answered his call and Sam was suddenly face-to-face with Jack and Maddie Fenton, the two people she'd only before seen in an advertisement. His mother was far more beautiful in person, she quickly decided mentally.

"Danny? Oh, Danny! I thought I heard you!" Sam stepped to the side slightly as Maddie Fenton rushed to embrace her son. She hugged him tightly and kissed his hairline swiftly. "Where have you been? Oh, _how_ have you been? Are you eating? You look tired."

"Maddie, let the boy go. Danny, m'boy, about time you swung by. Your mother's been worried." Jack informed him.

Danny laughed and returned his mother's embrace. "Obviously. I'm fine, Mom. Mom…I'm fine." He assured her as she went to check him over.

Sam couldn't help but smile at the scene before her as the redheaded matriarch of the Fenton clan finally let her son go. It was then that Mr. and Mrs. Fenton noticed the stranger in the room. Maddie was the first to speak as her indigo colored eyes swept over Sam.

Maddie had an elongated bob cut that reached the bottom of her neck. It looked very smart and sophisticated on her. Her hair was darker than her daughter's, with a slight brown hue to it. Just as Danny had said, she was in a form-fitting aqua and black hazmat suit. She somehow pulled it off, though.

"Hello, I'm Maddie. Danny, who's your friend?" She asked. Jazz moved around them to stand by her parents to illustrate that she was still wondering the very same.

Danny stepped backward to grab Sam's hand again and he cleared his throat. Jazz's eyebrows went up and his parents looked at them in confusion.

"Mom, Dad…Jazz, this is Samantha Manson." Danny introduced. Wasting no time at all, Jack stepped forward and grabbed Sam's hand.

"Nice to meet you!" He said, shaking her hand with gusto. She returned the handshake gingerly, more concentrated on waiting for Danny to drop the bomb.

Jack Fenton stood only slightly taller than his son, but he was much larger than him. He seemed to be composed of brawn from head to toe, making Sam wonder just how much exercise one got from capturing ghosts. Because he was older though, his age seemed to have turned what was muscle into plain old body mass.

His hair was graying, and the only part of his hair that looked anything like Danny's thick ebony locks was the very top of his head; his sideburns had been consumed by gray. He had deep steel gray eyes, adding just another gray thing to his appearance. What was not gray however, was the large orange and black hazmat suit he was in. Sadly, he didn't pull it off as well as his wife.

"We've been through this. Again, nice to meet you, Sam. Now how do you know each other? Is she a friend of Valerie's?" Jazz practically interrogated.

Sam wanted to scream out that there was no way in hot burning Hell (which she was still meaning to check out since…you know…Valerie had practically insisted they honeymoon there) that she would be associated with that psychotic sociopath, even in theory. But you know…she resisted…just barely.

"Uhm, no." Sam smiled nervously. Mentally she was telling Danny, _'Get it over with!'_

Jazz was now looking at _her_ expectantly as if _she_ were going to be the one to it. Hah! Been there done that with her own family…well, actually, Danny had been the one to tell her mother…but it was an accident…did that mean that she had to tell _his_ mother? …But that wouldn't be fair! His mother wasn't a raging drunk!

Back in real time outside of Sam's internal conflict, Danny squeezed her hand a little. "Valerie and I aren't together anymore actually. I'm with Sam. We got married."

The silence that followed his statement was ironically what jarred Sam out of her thoughts. Maybe everyone in their family had a person who broke through the silences. The Mansons had Lynne and the Fentons had Jack.

"Mazel Tov, kids!" Jack said, embracing his son and then much to her surprise, embracing Sam.

"Jack!" Maddie chastised. "Danny…what do you mean that you two are married? You-you can't be married. You were just with Valerie when I saw you last. What happened?"

"We…met in a bar." Danny tried his best to explain. It was amazing how suddenly, the man with all the right words to say to her mother suddenly a little less than mum around his own.

"You drink?" Jazz asked, looking more surprised than she had at the marriage announcement.

"Not anymore…" Sam couldn't help but mumble. Jazz looked at her, then at her brother and seemed to make a connection.

"You had a drunken wedding? Oh, you are kidding me. Please tell me this just happened last night. Are you going to get this annulled? Which bar was it?" Jazz continued to interrogate.

Jack looked a little more shaken than before, and Maddie looked absolutely floored. Well…her reaction was still much better than her mother's.

"No, it didn't happen last night. It…happened last week. I wanted to tell you!" Danny said before any of them could say anything. "But things got so hectic, and Sam had to cancel her wedding, and I was living with Tucker, and then there was this dinner and I was going to tell you. Actually, it's Sam who forced me to tell you today."

"Last week? Daniel Fenton, you have been married for an entire week and you didn't feel the need to tell your mother? I presume that Tucker knows since you've been rooming with him, is that correct?" Maddie asked, hands on her hips.

"Yeah, but—"

"So you tell your best friend, but you neglect to tell your family, your father and I especially about such an important change in your life?" Maddie reprimanded.

Another thing Sam resisted…the urge to tell him she told him so. Because she had. She definitely had told him so.

"Wait a minute, did you say Sam's wedding? You were getting married already?" Jazz directed this question toward Sam.

As complicated and mind bending as their situation already was, Sam really hated having to add in the last, 'Oh yeah, by the way…' when they had to explain the story. Granted, this was the first time they were explaining her side of the story. Her mother had already known what her deal was when it all began.

"It was arranged." Sam explained meekly.

"Arranged?…And your last name is Manson?…Oh my God, you're one of _those_ Mansons?" Jazz gaped.

Sam nodded and stopped meeting his sister's gaze. It was now Danny's turn to be baffled. Just how rich were the Mansons?

"Holy cow!" Jack exclaimed, resulting in Maddie nudging him and murmuring something about manners.

"Well Samantha, I…would you like to be called 'Samantha' or 'Sam'?" Maddie stopped to ask politely.

At Sam's obvious answer, Maddie continued. "Well Sam, it is lovely to meet you although I do really wish it had been under other circumstances. And you, it is not only the fact that you've done something so spontaneous that my head is still spinning, it's the fact that as your mother, I've missed seeing my only son get married."

"You can see it happen again." Sam piped up. Danny suddenly remembered as well.

"Right. Sam and I are getting re-married…soon. It was decided today, which is why I'm here telling you." Danny said.

Jack seemed excited once again as he repeated, "Mazel Tov! Is there a registry or should we get you kids something from the heart?"

Jazz and Maddie both sent him looks that quieted him.

"So you aren't getting this annulled?" Maddie questioned. Both Danny and Sam shook their heads. "I see. Well, you had better believe that I will be at this second wedding, and you'd also better believe that you are not out of trouble yet, Danny. So…while the both of you are here, we might as well get more acquainted. I hope the two of you will stay for dinner. Jazz brought food over."

Before there could be any further discussion, Jazz, Sam, and Danny were led into the dining room were they were left as Maddie and Jack retreated into the kitchen.

"There are veggies on the table already." Maddie called over her shoulder as they left. From the look on her face, it was evident they'd be gone for a bit.

After the coast was clear and their parents were out of sight and hearing range, Jazz turned to her brother suspiciously.

"Let's talk." Jazz said in a professional manner.

"Let's not." Her brother countered. He pulled out a chair for Sam next to him as his sister sat in the seat next to him.

"When did you develop a sense of fashion?" Danny asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I don't know, when did you develop a sense of commitment?" Jazz countered, obviously trying to keep the subject on point.

Sam felt sort of awkward with the two of them and the tension that was floating through the room. Even though things were as heavy as could be expected, his family was still taking it a lot better than hers did. Her mother overacted, her father hardly reacted, and her sister…her sister was just her sister.

Sam felt as though if anyone should know, Jazz should. She didn't know why, but her intuition told her that it would benefit them to have her on their side. Plus, she was a psychiatrist. If worse came to worst she could help her get her mother committed.

"Danny, tell her." Sam urged quietly. Jazz looked at her brother expectantly again.

* * *

"So wait, wait, wait." Jazz backtracked, eyeing them both in turn from where she sat. Danny and Sam had both quickly explained the story…the whole story to Jazz. Jazz now knew about the bar, the Antheneum, Adam, the Mansons, the Mansons' mansion, the dinner, the arrangement, and everything else there was to know. Sam's head was down and her hair fell in front of her eyes shielding her from his older sister's questioning gaze.

If asked, she found the placemat far more interesting even if there was a tiny speck of…okay…what _was_ on it…and why was it _moving_…and _green_? She'd admit that the Fenton house was slightly peculiar but this…this was beyond that. She looked up at Danny but he didn't catch her eye, he was looking at his sister.

"You got drunk, got married, made a business arrangement with her mother whom both of you swear is psychotic, and now you are about to remarry, and Mom and Dad can't know anything about this?" she questioned, making sure that she'd gotten it all right.

"Yes, now shut up and eat before Mom and Dad come back." Danny glowered, moving his carrots around on his plate.

"Uhm, Dan—" Whatever had been on the placemat had either muzzled her mouth or had found a friend because Sam suddenly found herself being wrapped tightly in a chilling green ooze that sent a cold sensation through her body.

"Oh, Danny of all of the irresponsible things! You've taken this poor girl with no real romantic interest in you—no offense, Sam—…Sam!" Jazz exclaimed, as Jack walked back in with the mashed potatoes and a more composed Maddie.

Danny whirled around to see Sam being held captive by what should have been a green vegetable. What worried him was not what he should do, but what his parents shouldn't do. He ran to get the Ghost-Safe-Gloves before one of them could grab something Fenton brand, but he was too late.

"NO, JACK! NO!"

"DAD!"

And a scream from Sam was heard as he rushed back into the dining room to see his sister ducked under the table, his mother with her face buried in her hands, his father wielding the Jack-O-Nine-Tails, and his lovely bride covered from head to toe in ectoplasm…and mashed potatoes.

"W…what is this stuff?" Sam asked, eyeing her position on the ground warily.

"Ectoplasm, dear." Maddie explained gently. "It's…ghost emanation. Oh, Jack."

Danny quickly helped Sam up, getting ectoplasm on himself in the process. It stuck to the side of Sam's face, plastering her hair down like gel and making her eyelashes stick together.

"It's like ghost snot," Jack tried to reassure her. "Completely harmless, kiddo. It'll come right off."

"Thanks, Dad. Really. Thanks." Danny winced to himself at the sound it made as it dropped off of her body in globs. He grabbed her hand as best as he could and began to lead her toward the stairs. "I'm gonna go get her cleaned up."

He led her away, getting away from his mother's sheepish expression, his father's clueless expression, and the look of 'I-told-you-so' on his sister's face. Sam left drips and drops of ectoplasm and mashed potatoes in her wake.

As they got to the top of the stairs, Danny began to apologize profusely. "I am so sorry. So, so, so, so, so sorry. This is why I didn't want you to meet my parents."

Sam laughed stiffly. "No, it's fine. One day, possibly one day soon we're going to look back on this and smile."

Danny wasn't convinced, leading her into the bathroom. "You're not smiling."

"Uhm…well, that's because I actually can't right now. The crevices of my mouth are slowly being bound together, but you know what, when I can freely move my face, I will be smiling up a storm!" she promised enthusiastically, getting as close to the sink as possible.

Danny just groaned as he freed her hands and arms from the ectoplasm with warm water. "I fail as a husband."

"You don't." Sam remarked sincerely.

"I do." He insisted.

"Well…at least you know what to feed me now." She offered. "Let's just…make sure it isn't being possessed first, okay?"

Danny gave a sad laugh as they both struggled to free her from the gooey jail. "I'm so sorry…" he continued apologizing.

Sam flexed her mouth muscles after she wiped off the ectoplasm. "_You're_ sorry? My mother almost killed us on the freeway to the tune of John Mayer, my deranged ex-betrothed fiancé is bent on destroying us like some sad mediocre comic book villain, my mother is forcing us to remarry, and my sister…well, Lynne is just Lynne which is an apology in itself. If anyone is sorry, it's me."

"We're even." Danny smiled. "Your mother tried to kill me…"

"And your father just made a string bean spew ghost snot at me. We're even." Sam smiled back. Sam was all cleaned up and felt much better and more able to move…despite the ectoplasm flavored potato in her hair. Danny patted her head awkwardly and made a face at what came off on his hand.

"You should do your hair like this for the wedding." Danny told her with a serious face. Sam snorted.

"I'll need help." She told him, just as seriously as they went to exit the bathroom.

"Ah, don't worry about that. We've got a whole vault you know. Anytime you want…what did my mom call it?…ghost emanation tossed on you, you just give a holler." He grinned. She really did like his grin.

"Ah, my hero." Sam laughed, attempting to get some of the goop out with her fingers as they made their way down the stairs.

At the table, Maddie looked thoroughly embarrassed, as did Jack. Jazz sat there in wonder, probably having been expecting her to have run our screaming.

"So, what's for dinner, Mrs. Fenton?" Sam asked, smiling warmly. Maddie returned her smile just as warmly.

"Please, call me Maddie. It seems like you'll be the new Mrs. Fenton." Maddie reminded her. Oh yeah, she'd almost forgotten about that…almost.

Danny pulled out a chair for her again, and sat next to her after she sat down. It was then that Jack had an epiphany. "You know Sam, you're family now. How's about we get you into the ghost hunting business?"

"Jack…"

"No, Dad."

"Dad…" Danny put a hand to his forehead.

"I'm serious! She can take a blast pretty good. Sam's a natural, I can tell already. You know me and Maddie just started doing commercials." He informed her, as if telling her a secret.

"Really?" Sam said, not bothering to fight off the smile that eased onto her face.

"Yeah! And some other time, I've got to show you the basement. You've got to know these things. You're a Fenton now." He reminded her.

Sam smiled. She was a Fenton now, and even if she wasn't legally a Fenton, she soon would be. It was at that point in time when she decided that she might just like being a Fenton more than she'd ever liked being a Manson.

Two hours later, Tucker pulled up in front of the Fenton home. Sam hugged Maddie and Jack goodbye and exchanged numbers with Jazz. Danny's sister was…quirky and was somewhat of a walking encyclopedia, but they'd gotten along great, and Sam promised to keep her in the loop because they both knew that Danny wouldn't.

Sam liked having an ally in Jazz. Maybe it was because she was around her age, and had some insight to things. Or maybe (and this one was what Sam internally suspected) it was just because she was Danny's sister, meaning that she was just another part of Danny for Sam to admire.

Maddie had made them promise to visit soon, and to tell her all about the wedding plans when they knew more. As far as Maddie knew, the wedding planning was only slightly involving Pamela. Wait until she found out that Pamela Manson was the nazi of all weddings.

Tucker rolled down the window and unlocked the doors. He was about to greet Sam when he stopped short, noticing her soggy ectoplasm and mashed potato filled hair.

"Don't ask. Just drive." Danny sighed, ushering his bride into the backseat.

Sam only smiled. All she really could do was smile. She had seen the ectoplasmic grass on the other side…and she liked it. She liked them a lot.

* * *

Don't forget to check out the live photos and the poll on my author's page!


	11. Ding Dong The Roast Is Dead

This...has been such a long time coming! I am so-so-so apologetic to all of the fans of CLV, and I can completely assure you that there will be regular updates from here on in. I won't bore you all with reasoning, excuses, and a sad, sad tale of writer's block for much longer than I have to, but I am so sorry for the year-long delay. Okay, here it is! Chapter 11!

* * *

Waiting for them to come back was torture. Sheer torture to be precise. It was so torturous that he was absolutely positive that this form of torture had to be used to torture people by people who loved to torture. What was torture, you ask? Oh, torture was waiting for his mother and Sam to return from…wherever they had gone. Oh, that was torture too; not even knowing where they had gone was another torture in itself.

What was also torturous was the fact that neither Sam nor his mother were picking up their phones. It was as if they were doing it on purpose just to slowly kill him inside. Was he being a little on the dramatic side? Maybe. Wasn't he usually the calm one?

"Would you sit down?" Tucker finally asked in exasperation. He'd grown tired of watching Danny's never-ending pacing quite some time ago.

"Sam's with your mom," He continued. "Now if you'd let her frolic off with your dad...now there's a problem I could see. But it's your mom…and Sam."

Danny paused in his pacing just for a moment to stare at his best friend before he continued his nervous pace back and forth in his parents' dining room. "Jazz isn't picking up her phone either."

"She's probably with them." Tucker offered, though this still didn't seem to appease the raven haired young man.

"She probably is. That's what makes it worse. It's like they're completely unaware of the invention of the phone."

"You sound ridiculous, I hope you know. And I'm pretty sure you're losing it." Tucker told him.

"I've lost it, dude." Danny corrected, kicking at a spot in the carpet.

Tucker took his glasses off to clean them with his favorite vintage black and red Spiderman t-shirt before placing them back onto his face.

"Can't you just be satisfied with the fact that they're obviously hitting it off so well with Sam?"

"Who said I wasn't?" His friend shot back defensively.

Tucker eyed the door with a sigh, indicating that he was letting it go. He stared at the threshold just as Danny had been doing for what felt like eternity, before looking back at his best friend. Danny looked totally bent out of shape. He'd never seen him this way before.

Tucker followed the blur of a solid black t-shirt and plain blue jeans as Danny raced back and forth in front of him in his white and black sneakers. He could envision a hole being worn into the floor.

"What you thinkin' about?" he decided to ask.

"Last night." Danny responded, stopping once again before he continued his pace.

Tucker grinned. Last night was a pretty impressive night if he did say so himself…

* * *

_Danny was convinced that he found the electronic beeping more amusing than he should have. No, scratch that. It was the sound of Tucker's frustration that had the mirth bubbling over in his case. Or perhaps it was the excited whoop that Sam had let out, surprising even herself. They were learning new things about each other everyday. _

_What new thing had Danny learned about her today? Danny learned that Sam had a natural talent for video games. This natural talent was currently enabling her in the destruction of Tucker at 'Zombie Minions IV'._

**'_BEEP! BEEP!'_**

"_I'm winning! I'm winning! Danny, I'm winning!" she said excitedly._

_It was cute really. Sam wasn't even holding the controller right, she was pretty sure, and it had taken her about fifteen minutes to learn the controls and to stop her character from smashing her face in by walking into the wall, but now…she was invincible! Though she found the busty blonde in skimpy clothing degrading to women…and a dead ringer for Paulina, she was enjoying herself nonetheless. Well…she had been. _

"_You cut my head off!" she cried, glaring Tucker down as the blonde's decapitated body lay limp and lifeless on the screen. Sam wrinkled her nose as the blood squirted from her severed neck. Tucker's character distastefully swung the blonde head around victoriously._

_He grinned at her cockily and waved his controller in her face with a silent taunt. Sam was less than happy. She turned to Danny with a defeated pout. "He cut my head off…" _

_Danny, who was rather beat after fifteen hours of being in Tucker's apartment, smiled slowly and tiredly. "At least it wasn't literally." He offered. _

_Sam nodded in agreement, looking even more tired than he did. Now that the game was over she realized just how exhausted she really was. Staring at a television screen for hours on end probably did more harm than it did good...if it did any good. She doubted it._

_A glance at the pig clock told her that it was well past eleven P.M. and Tucker stretched with a yawn. It was silently known that Danny would be taking Sam home now. _

"_I still…beat you thirty…-seven times before that." She remarked, stopping to yawn. _

_Tucker grumbled something as he began to turn the television off. Hugs were exchanged and promises were made to schedule a rematch._

* * *

"Sam's pretty cool." Tucker informed him, as if telling him something that he didn't already know.

He did though. He was definitely aware of how 'cool' Sam was. Actually, Sam was more than 'cool'. She was funny, witty, smart, and absolutely positively—…_finally_ walking through the door.

His thoughts were cut short by the front door opening as Jazz, Sam, and his mother made their entrance. The first person he noticed, whether it be intentional or not, was Sam. Dressed in a violet lace tank top, dark jeans, and black satin ballerina flats, she had the biggest smile on her face.

He'd never seen her as utterly thrilled as she seemed just then. He'd also never seen her giggle with giddy excitement before, as she was doing with his sister. Sam could giggle?

Her hair was put up and stacked on the back of her head with a silver clip, leaving her bangs and a few tendrils draped in front of her face. He smugly noted that after the sunroof incident, there'd been a lack of scrunchies in her hair.

With her free hand that wasn't clutching onto what looked to be at least seven bags, she brushed her hair out of her happy amethyst eyes.

Next he noticed his mother, in a simple deep blue dress and brown sandals. Then he saw his sister, whose hair was tied back with a dark green and teal scarf, wearing light fitted jeans and a dark green off-the-shoulder tunic.

"You have such lovely skin, Sam." Maddie smiled warmly as they walked back into the Fenton household. She too had shopping bags galore.

It was paining Danny for the chance see how well they'd gotten along and it seemed as if he were about to find out firsthand.

"Aw, thank you, Maddie. Yours is too. I mean…I understand why my mother doesn't have wrinkles; Pamela Manson is the Botox Queen…but I cannot believe that you're only forty-two years old!" Sam beamed at her mother-in-law.

"Well, we did have Jazz a little young." Maddie confessed.

"Just how young, Mom?" Jazz teased, making her mother blush a bit.

From the other room where Danny and Tucker resided, Tucker murmured something that sounded suspiciously like, "Back seat, windows up…" Danny punched him…hard.

Shaking his head with an irate scowl, he made his way from the doorway and toward the entranceway.

"Hey. How was your shopping trip?" Danny asked, smiling. His question was meant to be directed toward all three women, but his eyes were locked only on Sam.

"Great. I had so much fun with your mom and Jazz. We have a lot in common that I didn't even realize." Sam gushed. Maddie smiled warmly at her again and Jazz beamed.

"Well, we've got to go…we promised your parents we'd be over for our first dinner there." Danny reminded her, looking at his watch.

"Oh, right! I totally spaced on that. Maddie, I had such a good—…great time." She told the redheaded woman, her smile growing even brighter as she corrected herself.

Maddie smiled and assured her that she had had just as much of a good time as her daughter-in-law.

"Sam honey, I told you. You can call me 'Mom'." The older woman smiled back.

Sam smiled brightly. "I will. Thanks, Mom." She tried it out and decided that she liked it. It felt a little more natural than when she'd addressed her own mother. Warmer, especially. There was a surge of warmth that went through her when she associated Maddie Fenton with the word 'Mom'. It was as if the word was made especially for her.

"Jazz! Don't forget to tell me how that shirt fits!" She said over Maddie's shoulder as she hugged her goodbye.

Jazz scooted Danny out of the way to hug Sam. "Oh, I will. Are you still interested in reading my thesis on the Overbearing Mother complex?"

"Hah. Oh, am I ever." She grinned as Danny made a not-so subtle attempt to get her out of the door.

"Your mother's a psycho..." He reminded her in sing-song.

"Okay, okay, we're going!" She laughed, allowing him to grab four of her shopping bags as they headed towards Monster.

He opened the door to let her in on the passenger side before getting in on the driver's side. As Sam put her bags in the back seat, Danny peeked inside a random bag, only to have his face flush as he hurriedly closed it. It was then that Sam turned back around and grabbed the pink striped bag marked 'Victoria's Secret'. Danny made a silent oath to always read the outside of bags from then on.

Buckling their seatbelts, the two got ready for the trip to the Manson mansion.

"So," Danny said, speaking over the soft sounds of the nearly muted radio. "Didn't exactly peg you for the shopping type."

Sam laughed, still wearing the happy smile she'd had when she walked through the door. "I'm usually not. Then again, the only shopping I've ever really done has been with my mother in stuffy French boutiques where even the mannequins aren't thin enough for the clothes..."

Danny chuckled under his breath.

"So it's safe to say that you like them then?" He questioned, having a feeling toward what she would answer.

"'Like' seems so passive-aggressive, Danny. I adore your family. I just...I wish..." Sam stopped her sentence as if she'd forgotten how to speak.

"What? Did something happen? Was it ghost related?" Danny seemed to be a little more nervous. This did not go unnoticed by her, but she supposed it was a family thing. All four Fentons tensed at the word ghost, Jazz and Danny especially. Perhaps it was just a quirk of growing up in Amity, but in the field that Jack and Maddie worked in.

"No, no. Nothing with your family, it's mine. Of course it would be mine. I only wish you felt as welcome in my family as I do in yours." She sighed.

"I do."

Sam gave him a look of suspicious disbelief. He'd answered just a little too quickly.

"Okay, well for the most part. Your dad and I get along great and I'm pretty sure Lynne likes me. She hasn't threatened my life since that one time..." Danny remarked.

Sam nodded. She'd warned him not to call her 'Lynette', even if it was in jest.

"She does. It's just...you know who it is. And as much as I'd like to make myself feel better by going, 'Hey, she hates everyone, including me half of the time!', I can't because it isn't fair." Sam vented.

They breezed through the freeway in the fast lane. It was Danny's favorite lane, Sam had noticed.

"She stopped calling me a farmboy." He spoke optimistically.

"Oh, well of course there's that." She agreed dryly, rolling her eyes toward the window.

Suddenly jarring Sam from her sarcasm was a loud punk ringtone. She didn't even have to look at her Blackberry to know who it was.

"What, annoying sibling?" Sam asked as she picked up the phone.

"Okay, so Mom is like...freaking out and unplugging all of the computers and she's declared our house to be an internet-free zone." Lynne hissed on the other line.

"And...why has this occurred exactly?" Sam wondered in confusion. Danny glanced over at her and she shrugged as they got off the exit to her parents' house.

"Because she tried to set up a new e-mail address with Hotmail for wedding stuff, only she ended up at Hot 'M-A-L-E', and now she thinks that everything on the internet is filled with dirty, smutty porn." Lynne explained hurriedly.

"And I'm being told this why?" Sam sighed, sliding a hand down her face.

"Becaaaaause," Lynne held the word out obnoxiously. "I know for a fact that you and Danny both have laptops!"

"Lynne, we're five minutes from the house, and neither one of us has our laptops." Sam argued.

"Mine's in the back seat..." Danny informed her.

"Shut up." She hissed at him.

"Too late, I heard him! Now hurry up before my crops die on FarmVille!"

The phone was hung up and Sam just sighed. Dinner was going to be interesting.

When Danny and Sam pulled up into the long winding driveway belonging to her parents, they spotted Lynne sitting on the steps. As soon as they got out of the car, the petite redhead bounded toward them.

"You're late," She said to Sam. "Mom blames you." She directed toward Danny.

"Of course she does." Danny remarked, running a hand through his hair. Sam ignored the little heart flutter. As much as she tried to fight it, she _was_ attracted to Danny...damnit.

Sam walked in before Danny, hearing him tell her sister that his laptop was in the backseat somewhere under Sam's things. The last thing she heard before she stepped into the house was, "Yes! Save the cows!" Sam could only roll her eyes.

She was immediately greeted by Imelde, the older woman who washed the dishes in her mother's kitchen. She smiled at her, only to have the woman launch herself at Sam in a hug.

"Oh, Miss Sam, Miss Sam." The woman cried through her thick accent. "I am so happy to see you so...so happy."

Sam took a step back. "Imelde, what are you talking about? When have I not been happy?...not counting middle school, or you know...Adam."

"Oh yes. No, no." She remarked confusing Sam. "You have been happy, but not happy-happy. Not happy in the love."

Sam stopped herself as Danny appeared behind her. Imelde then launched herself at him too, and cried something in Spanish before bustling away toward the kitchen. Sam just shrugged as Danny looked as utterly confused as she felt. She wasn't in love with Danny...

"Is there another pregnancy rumor?" She asked. She called after her, only to have her question fall on deaf ears.

She turned to her right to see Consuela dusting solemnly.

"Mrs. Pamela...she spreads the word of your re-marriage." Consuela explained, clutching the feather duster close to her crisp white uniform top.

Sam sighed brusquely and ran a hand through the strands of hair in her face before pausing. She was even picking up his habits!

"Consuela, she's had about a week and a half to plan this thing so far. Really...how much damage should I be expecting?"

"People have been alerted. But please...be careful. She is very very angry since the _arrival_." She warned. She hurried along as quickly as she could in the constricting skirt at the sound of clacking heels making their way down the long staircase.

"The arrival of what?" Danny asked before she could get the words out.

Consuela shot them an apologetic look and a small smile before she continued to make her way out of the foyer and to the large living room area.

Sam, suddenly less enthused with her day, looked up to see her mother descending the staircase in a navy blue pantsuit, and oversized white Chanel sunglasses.

"Would someone please please for the love of God, please tell me why this house is so damn bright? It's like living on a God-forsaken solar panel!" She snapped.

She clacked down the stairs in pointed-toed shoes with a conservative heel. She whipped her glasses off in a hurry to glare at the two of them as she got to eye level with them.

"Okay, seriously, the arrival of what?" Danny whispered in worry.

"And the pair of you...making a habit out of being tardy, I see. I honestly have no idea why I even bother being hospitible when it's quite blatant that my hospitality is only thrown back into my face. And what does the guilty party say? Not a thing I see..." She snipped.

"We're fifteen minutes late, Mom. There was traffic from Amity." Sam remarked.

This piqued Pamela's interest. "Amity? What in the world were you doing in that spectral hellhole?"

"My parents live there..." Danny mentioned, staring at her.

"Wonderful people, I'm sure." Sam's mother retorted offhandedly.

Sensing where this conversation was going, Sam changed the subject. "Actually, they are. So...Mother...anything new?" Sam sighed.

"No." Her mother said coolly as Lynne walked back in carrying Sam's Victoria's Secret bag.

Danny reddened slightly at the sight of it, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"What are you-?"

"Ooh, a little early honeymoon shopping and a-cha-cha-cha..." Lynne shook her hips to the left and gave a wink, resulting in a furious sputter from her mother and a gaping look from Danny.

"Give me that." Sam snatched the bag back from her sister with a scowl. "That isn't for a honeymoon or any 'cha-cha', thank you."

"'Cha-cha-cha', there's an extra 'cha'. You forgot the other 'cha'." At her older sister's harrowing stare, she moved on. "And there are tags and a receipt for today."

Pamela turned to her. "Shopping? And here I was put under the impression that you were visiting someone's parents."

Her look was suspicious and she seemed as if she would be going over the edge at any moment.

"Thank you for the invasion of privacy, you little felon." She shot a glare at her sister as she responded to her mother's accusation. "I was. I went...shopping with Danny's mom and his sister." Sam admitted. She looked away as Pamela clutched her glasses tightly.

"Is. That. So." Her words were spoken in more of a statement than a question, leaving the other three in the room feeling very unsure of what was going to occur next. "Well, it would appear that you are indeed changing before my very eyes, Samantha."

Sam was about to speak when she became aware of a presence making her way down the stairs. Petite and delicate, the frame of the person with long and wild greying ebony locks held up in a tight bun could only belong to one person. She knew that walk anywhere.

"One day we'll find the mute button for you." Ida Manson remarked offhandedly, her cane tapping the stairs lightly. She came to the landing and smiled warmly.

"Sammy," the elderly woman smiled, opening her arms for her granddaughter.

The smile that Danny appreciated from earlier returned full force as Sam was taken into her grandmother's arms. Ida took this opportunity to peek over Sam's shoulder. As she moved away, she had a small smirk on her face.

"Well, well. You're the one no one's stopped talking about." She said to Danny. Turning to Sam she clutched her cane and gave a thumbs-up. "Good, he's hot. At least you didn't bankrupt us for some schmegegee."

Lynne snickered, and neither Danny nor Sam really knew how to answer the Manson matriarch. Ida took no notice of this as she continued. "And don't you mind her calling you a 'farmer'. That Tom Welling, he played a farmer on that Superman picture, and he's no balegula."

Lynne choked on her laughter as Danny gaped and Sam looked away. "Thank you, Gram." She replied uncomfortably.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. Hot-blooded. Insufferable…" Pamela paused in her furious muttering to shout, "Jeremy! Samantha has arrived!" She then stormed into the dining room, her heels announcing her before she was seen by the staff.

"So you're the arrival." Sam concluded.

Her grandmother nodded defiantly. "And arrive I have, bubbee. Just in time to stop your Stepford mother from sending our family to Hell in a handbasket. There's a reason I wasn't made aware of that schmutzig engagement to the Cain boy. I hate the Cains. I've always hated the Cains. Sneaky flaxen dybbuks, that's what they are. " She spat bitterly.

Danny was bemused. For an elderly woman, she still had a fire about her. He also had a pretty good feeling that those Yiddish words weren't translated too nicely in English.

"I digress though," she turned back to Danny and looked him straight in the eye. Danny was pleasantly surprised to see eyes identical to Sam's staring at him. "Anyone who can make _that_ dybbuk want to drink herself into an even deeper stupor can call me a farbrenter."

With that, she nodded and walked away, her little cane tapping on the floor.

"Looks like you got your wish." Danny remarked. At Sam's confusion he continued, "It looks like I've been officially welcomed."

Sam could only maintain her smile.

Evening saw Danny and Sam getting back into Monster...er, Betsy and heading toward the freeway. Sam's day had finally caught up to her, and she was slouched down under the protection of her seatbelt, with her face all but pushed up against the passenger window. Danny chose to drive in the slow lane to give her an opportunity to sleep with no disturbances. He decided that two days of exhaustion could sneak up on a person. He could easily relate.

"Your mother was pretty quiet tonight. It was a change." He said softly, testing to see if she was still awake. She was.

"My mother was furious tonight because my grandmother infuriates her. Not such a change." Was her response.

Danny grinned and adjusted his mirror. A red flash from Sam's lap caught his eye. "Hey, you've got a message or something."

Sam sat up with a tired yawn and a slight stretch. Curiosity wasn't exactly eating at her, and it was probably just her sister whining about the lack of internet and the ability to harvest her farm. Honestly, if the girl was as dedicated to virtual turnips as she was to the other aspects of life…

Then again, it could have been her grandmother, who'd just learned how to text and was proving to be very chatty. Or it could have been her father, who was also very quiet that evening. Sam already knew it was because he was in his study looking over the accounting archives. His satisfied laugh at Lynne's jokes, and the polite appreciation toward his mother's compliments did not mask the grim and tired look in his eyes. It all only made Sam want to fight harder against Adam and as a result make her marriage seem real...Was it real? What would have made it fake? Oh yeah, the lack of emotion and love. They'd formulated a different type of love. A non-romantic type of love. It was almost as if it were an arranged marriage between friends. Yes, that is what it was, wasn't it? Except they hadn't exactly arranged it. It was more as if fate had arranged it to get them both out of similar situations...wait, did she just say that 'fate had arranged it'?

As in, it was fated? It wasn't. It was not fated.

It was a coincidence. One that simply benefitted them both. And yeah, so…she was attracted to Danny. That didn't mean that she loved him. …How did she get back to love? She was just thinking about fate...or was it friendship. But either way, fate and love (platonic and...otherwise) went hand in hand didn't they? No…only with soulmates.

She and Danny were NOT soulmates. She mentally rolled her eyes at her wild thoughts.

Two days of exhaustion could sneak up on a person, she decided. She glanced at Danny's somewhat tired expression and wondered if he could relate.

Her tired brain suddenly went into overdrive as she analyzed exactly what had occurred in such a short time. She was bonding with his family. He was…tolerating hers. At the thought of his family, she wondered if the flashing light was an indicator of Jazz sending her a picture of herself in the top that Sam had convinced her to buy earlier. Sam had surprised even herself with how at ease she felt with the Maddie and Jazz. Maybe there was just an ease that came with being with a Fenton…was that why she and Danny got on the way that they did...because she was a Fenton? She was a Fenton...

Curiosity finally took her and she unlocked her phone to see a voicemail from her mother. Talk about disappointment…and subdued frustration. She accessed the visual voicemail application on her phone and her heart stopped for a beat as she read the message.

'_Since you seem to be so well acquainted with his family,_

_I feel it is only in your best interest that your father and_

_I are also. Friday evening, dinner at our home. I cannot_

_wait to meet these people that you enjoy spending so_

_much time with.'_

If Sam wasn't in such a state of horrified shock she would have said a really bad word…really…really loudly.

* * *

Friday afternoon found Sam and Danny sitting in her apartment with Tucker, who was currently raiding Sam's fridge. Sam sat barefoot and cross-legged on her sofa as she counted on her fingers the way that the evening could go horribly, horribly wrong.

"Reason number twenty-five, my mother could insult your mother with one of those 'redheads are so rare' comments, thereby insinuating that your mother's hair color either isn't real, or 'red' as my mother's." Sam counted off.

"Okay, now you're just running out of reasons." Danny rebutted.

"Running out of reasons? Oh, no, no. I will have you know that I have thought up exactly four-hundred and twenty-two...oh, wait. Just thought up another one, make that twenty-three reasons why this is a horrible idea. Oh, twenty-four!" Sam declared.

"Isn't it funny how you both have redheaded mothers and sisters and you both have black hair. And when you think about it, 'L's are just backwards 'J's, so Lynne and Jazz—"

"Are nothing alike." Sam and Danny cut off Tucker's random notion in unison before turning back to each other in mild surprise.

"And you," Danny said, ignoring Tucker. "Stop dooming the evening and just relax. The six of them…seven including your grandmother...were going to have to meet eventually, especially if we're getting married."

"Re-married." Tucker corrected him. Sam and Danny shot him dark looks.

"Jazz and Lynne…fine. Believe it or not, my sister was born with at the very most, a single ounce of self-control. My dad and your dad, also fine. Your dad is a little quirky, my dad is a little boring. But they have in common the fact that they have two children, their own businesses, and families they care about very much…and sports. They're guys, they'll bond." Sam said with a wave of her hand.

Danny shot her an amused look. "And the problem would be with our mothers, I'm presuming?"

"Do not presume. You already know the answer. Yes, that is the problem. You're throwing your mother into the ring with _a soul sucker_! A dybbuk! _You_ should love your mother more than that! _I_ love your mother more than that, so I know that _you_ should love your mother than that!"

"I love my mother…and you definitely spoke to your grandmother today." Danny replied.

"Then you should have told her and your father that they shouldn't go. Maybe we shouldn't have even told them at all. Call them. Call them right now and you tell them it's cancelled." Sam demanded. "...And I know! I can't stop speaking Yiddish and it's weird." She added as an afterthought.

Danny rolled his eyes and put a hand on her shoulder. She got a fluttery feeling that she internally fought to push down. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her bare shoulder, sending a slight jolt through her.

"Sam, we can't just go off lying to our families."

"We've done it before!"

"She's right…you have done it before."

Danny took this time to glare at Tucker, who instantly shut up, and to deny Sam's request.

"No. It'll be fine. Everything will be fine. Just relax." He practically pleaded with her.

"No!" She nudged him away as she internally nudged the feeling away. "There is no 'relax', okay? The second we relax, bad things happen."

She was exactly 3.2 seconds away from launching into breathing mode. 3.1…3.0…

Tucker sat in bemusement as Danny just gave a rough sigh.

"And are you sure your parents even _really_ said yes? I mean…was it a 'yes' as in 'sure, why not…we have nothing better to do' Or maybe a 'only if we have to' kind of 'yes'? Oh, was it a—"

"It was a 'I can't wait to meet our son's in-laws, they must be as amazing as their daughter' kind of 'yes'. My parents think that you are incredible, Sam. Because…well, because you are. You…you're a great person. And that more than makes up for anything that could possibly happen tonight…as long as you stop speaking Yiddish."

Sam laughed.

"We're a united front, remember?" His blue eyes looked intently into her amethyst ones, and she suddenly felt a little more at ease.

Breathing mode crisis averted.

"At the very least, Jazz is prepared, right? She did listen when we told her how awful my mother can be, didn't she? I mean, I've told her, I know you've had to have told her…" Sam looked at Danny.

"I don't say bad things about your mother." Danny said reticently.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Yes, you do. Of course you do. You have to. She's my mother and I'm constantly saying bad things about her."

"I don't." Danny argued.

Sam looked away and remarked, "You should really stop lying to me before we get married. We shouldn't have a relationship built on secrecy and lies."

Before she walked out of the room, Tucker gave a hacking cough that was interrupted by his loud shout of, "Ow!"

Sam didn't ask.

* * *

It was 6:52 P.M. when the town car containing the Fentons pulled up in front of the Manson household. Sam was dressed in an indigo tunic dress that barely touched her knees and over-the-knee boots with her hair pulled into a high ponytail. She stood anxiously next to Danny in his navy blue dress shirt and black dress pants. Sam looked down nervously to see that she could almost see her face in Danny's shoes. Okay, so maybe he was right…maybe she had gone a little overboard when she'd insisted on polishing his shoes…and color coordinating.

One by one, the Fentons stepped out of the expensive car. Jazz was first, dressed in an eloquent off-white lace dress. It was simple, it was pretty, it would be Pamela approved. Her black oxford heels made dull clacks against the smooth driveway as she moved out of the way for her father. Out stepped Jack, dressed in a white button up with matching brown pants and a jacket. Either Jazz or Maddie must've been just as nervous as she was because even from where she stood she could tell that his shoes had been shined by a woman on a mission.

Last but not least, it was time to see Danny's mother. She anticipated seeing Maddie the most, not only because she wanted her to make a good impression with her fire-breathing mother, but because she'd genuinely missed her company.

With the help of Jack, Maddie Fenton got out of the town car in a deep violet colored, three-quarter sleeved dress. It hugged her body gently, and while it did make her look youthful, it also gave her a look that could go toe-to-toe with her mother's. Her heels were similar to ones she'd seen on Pamela, but these seemed gentler, softer on her perhaps. Maybe Mrs. Fenton, just like her son, could hold her own against Pamela.

"Sam," Maddie smiled warmly. Sam smiled back just as warmly as Jazz hurried over to hug her. She gave her a reassuring squeeze and stepped back to look at her.

"The dress!" Jazz practically squeaked. Sam laughed and nodded before turning to Jack.

"Hi, Jack. You look very nice." She told him. He adjusted his tie before gathering her in a death-like grip. After Danny greeted his family he looked down at his watch.

"6:58, Sam."

Sam nodded and smoothed her dress down and for what Sam knew had to be for either the benefit of his parents, or so she wouldn't fall over, Danny clasped her hand in his own as she rang the doorbell. Almost in an instant, Lynne opened the door with a smile plastered on her face. It was evident at once to Sam that the younger Manson had been threatened. She stood in a simple yellow dress and black ballerina flats with her hair pinned up elegantly. Her smile said, 'Come on in!' while her eyes said, 'Help me!'.

"Hi, I'm Lynne…tte." Lynne looked as if the very name pained her.

"But she prefers to be called 'Lynne'." Danny said, giving a small smile as she opened the door wider to let them all in. As Danny walked past her, she shot him a grateful look and mouthed something in appreciation. Danny gave her a subtle wink.

"Oh my, Sam…your home is beautiful. Simply beautiful. Do you still live here?" Maddie asked, looking around in awe. Danny smiled at their faces, remembering how he'd been when he'd first seen the gargantuan house.

"No, actually. I moved out when I went to college." Sam told her, leading the group of them into the dining room. There stood Pamela in a black dress and black heels with her hair perfectly coiffed. Her smile was stagnant and her pearls and perfectly bouncy hair were a crisp contrast against her black dress.

"Hello, I'm Pamela Manson. Welcome to my home. Dinner will be ready in promptly thirty minutes, but please…join me in the foyer for drinks…and conversation." Pamela looked at Sam and Danny as she uttered her last word.

'_United front, united front, united front, united front…'_ Sam thought, panicking.

"Jeremy should be in here reading..." Pamela remarked. She eyed Jack as if she weren't sure he was even literate.

Her father, looking just as calm and relaxed as he had the day Danny first met him, was in fact sitting in the foyer reading. They could tell he'd _actually_ been reading by the startled look of confusion on his face as the group of them walked into the room.

"Jeremy," He said instantly, rising to shake Jack's hand. He took Maddie's gently and patted it, as he did to Jazz.

Danny cleared his throat. "Lynne, Mr. and Mrs. Manson, this is my mother, Maddie, my father Jack, and my sister Jazz."

"'Jazz'…how musical." Pamela remarked with a slight smile.

And there it was; the first blow. Sam's eyes snapped shut and she clutched onto Danny's hand, bringing her to the realization that she had still been holding it.

Jeremy laughed a little. In an attempt to break the tension he said, "Danny, please. Call me Jeremy. And Pamela, it's obviously short for her actual name. Much like our Lynnette and Samantha insist on shortening theirs. It seems as if all of our children have something in common."

His comment worked, and the adults (with the exception of Pamela, of course) laughed. Pamela pursed her lips. "Well, I for one have never liked to be called 'Pam' and 'Jerry' is just plain crude."

She just wouldn't back down…what was her problem? Sam decided that it was her turn to intervene.

"Well, Mother…to each their own. Please, sit down." Sam said, her body tense. She knew this dinner wasn't as innocent as her mother had tried to make it seem. There was only one person with the tact...or perhaps lack thereof to turn the situation out of the hole her mother had driven it into.

She turned to Lynne and muttered, "Distraction. Now."

Nodding, Lynne cleared her throat and announced, "I've got the biggest crush on this kid at school and he's got blue hair, zero home training, and a lack of respect for authority!"

Sam calmly brought her hands up to her face. Honestly, what had she expected?

Seeing the blank look on everyone's face in the silence that she had just caused, Lynne added in, "Annnd everytime I see him I feel like one of those yappy little dogs that pee when they get excited..."

Sam slowly brought her hands down from her face and turned her head to stare at her sister. There was a pregnant pause in the room before laughter and slow chatter erupted between Jack and Jeremy, successfully ending Pamela's reign.

"On the list of many things I wish I never knew about you that would have to be..."

"Two-hundred and forty-eight?" Lynne guessed.

"Fifty-two. Good guess though. 'A' for effort." Sam murmured.

Pamela sat, holding a glass of what had to have been something alcoholic, and watched Maddie dote on her children as her husband entertained her own.

Sam lightly swatted Lynne. "And by 'distraction', I meant drop a glass or maybe knock over a picture, not give our parents a heart attack."

Lynne rolled her eyes. "You know Mom can't die."

Sam couldn't help the smirk that flittered across her face. She stared across the room at Danny, his gorgeous blue eyes were dark as he listened intently to what Maddie and Jazz were saying to him. His features were relaxed, and she noticed how strong his jaw looked when he made a face at his sister. A brief memory of herself trailing kisses along it flashed and Sam fought to get rid of it. She was stirred out of her trance as one of the maids quietly made her presence known.

"Mrs. Manson, the table is set. Everything is ready except the roast which will be ready as soon as-"

Pamela cut her off. "I can tend to the roast. I am a good hostess." She remarked, almost defensively.

The girl nodded, not wanting to offend her anymore than she apparently had. She hurriedly made her way out of the room, and Danny stood a moment later. He walked the few short paces to where Sam sat and extended his hand to her to help her up off of the couch. She took his hand and expected him to let go, but he didn't.

Jeremy gave Sam a look that meant he still approved.

"After you," Danny gestured for him and Pamela to lead the way. Jeremy nodded graciously while Pamela took his invitation openly and moved ahead of them.

Danny clasped her hand in his before their fingers became intertwined. Sam allowed herself to be led out of the room, with her sister and the Fentons following.

They walked into the family dining room and Sam thanked the heavenly forces that her mother hadn't forced them all into the grand dining area.

Her mother sat at the head of the table, demonstrating once again her need for control. Lynne sat to her left and her father sat to her right. Next to Jeremy sat Jack, then Maddie, then Gram. Sam watched as Pamela eyed the seating arrangement carefully, and cautiously permitted Jazz to sit between Lynne and herself and Danny to sit on the end across from her grandmother. Directly across from her, Maddie gave her a gentle smile and a subtle wink. This put Sam a little more at ease, but not very.

"Lynette, spit out that gum. Don't swallow it. Spit it out." Pamela instructed.

"Mom, relax. It's like five calories. I'll still fit in that bridesmaid contraption..." Lynne argued, defiantly swallowing her gum.

"Congratulations, Lynnette Manson. You've now got a sticky pink acquaintance for the next seven years."

"My gum was blue, Mom."

"Actually," Jazz interrupted. "Swallowed chewing gum typically passes through the digestive tract without harm and is eliminated at the same rate as other foods. There were however two cases in 1998 of children being rushed to the emergency room due to extreme tract blockage, but really that's just an extreme circumstance and an infinitesimal variable."

"Hah." Lynne remarked to her mother.

"How remarkable." Jeremy said, nodding his head appreciatively. "Though you shouldn't go making meals of it, Lynne…" Lynne gave a captain's salute and earned a chuckle from the Fentons.

"So," Pamela began. "Now that we're all here amongst…family I suppose wedding details should be discussed."

Maddie beamed while Lynne shuffled her feet on the carpet beneath them, turning her head to Jack, who sat absent-mindedly across from her. Following his eyes she could see he was entranced by the various works of art plastered upon the walls of the dining area. A large portrait of their family, featuring a young and rebellious Sam and an even younger Lynne hung directly behind her, and she knew that was what had caught Jack's attention. She'd seen the elaborate painting so many times she needed not turn around to describe it. Tuning her mother out, but catching the words 'lilac', 'champagne', and 'taffeta' in-between, she began to envision it.

First, she saw her father's golden blonde hair, perfectly coiffed and naturally shiny; he looked like an extra in '_Grease'_. His posture was straight and lean, though he clasped his hands to the chair in front of him where his wife was seated. Pamela, featured as younger and happier with longer hair, sat rigidly upon the chair, holding the younger version of herself firmly on her lap.

She also of course knew her own likeness, being held captive upon her mother. Even then she could recognize the need for escape in her own eyes. Though it was obviously a still portrait, she could see herself squirming viciously to escape her mother's clasp. She never really had stopped squirming.

Next to her mother's chair sat Gram's chair, where she sat smiling. There was a wicked glint in her grandmother's eye, one that was almost exactly duplicated in her eldest granddaughter's, who sat perched on her lap. There she sat, Samantha Manson. She was probably about nine or ten, with her gorgeous ebony locks framing her face and her bored expression screeching volumes through the painting. The look in her eyes said she was going to get out; she was going to be different and she was going to raise Hell if anyone tried to stop her. Glancing to the front of her at a framed photograph of Sam and Adam at their engagement party, and then to the right of her at Sam and Danny, Lynne wondered if the little girl in the portrait was finally getting what she wanted.

"Hello?" Sam murmured, discreetly waving a hand at her as her mother explained something to her father about fabric. "Jeez, kid. What do you think about?"

"Men." Lynne answered almost immediately. "Sweaty, half-naked men." Danny overheard and raised an eyebrow.

Pamela continued on, not really bothering to take input from anyone else at the table. Maddie didn't seem to mind though, she just seemed happy to be included…if she was actually being included. Sam had a feeling her mother was using this opportunity to simply talk at the Fentons and to show off.

Maddie's smile turned into a slight frown as she spoke up. "Well, this leads us into an awkward territory…"

"What ever do you mean, Maddie?" Jeremy questioned. Pamela just sat at the table, resting her chin on her hands that were clasped together in a fist.

"Jack and I had no other expectations for the kids' wedding other than the utmost of class and sophistication," Maddie remarked. This, piqued Pamela's interest. "But after hearing all that Pamela has planned, I regret to say that I don't think Jack and I will be able to contribute to the cost of the wedding."

Though Pamela was far too 'upper-class' (or far too sober) to snort or begin to laugh, Sam could practically read her mother's mind through the twinkle in her eye and the slight smile that she had dared to crack. "Of course not. No one expected you to."

"Because it is the duty of the bride's parents." Jeremy filled in where Pamela had let her obnoxious statement trail.

"Yes, because of that." Pamela nodded, the twinkle still evident in her eye. "I'm sorry did you just call them children?"

"Oh, thank you. Though it does feel like Sam is our daughter now too."

"But she isn't…" Pamela said stalely. Her right eyebrow twitched territorially.

"But it isn't that we don't have the money for it…or rather it is…Jack? Why don't you explain?" Maddie continued, her sweet smile grazing her face once more, seemingly oblivious to Pamela's snide smirk and her unanswered question at the other end of the table.

Three of the staff members brought out soup, salad and bread respectfully before leaving just as quietly as they had entered.

Never one for unnecessary suspense, Jack proudly announced, "We bought you kids a house."

The silence lasted a mere millisecond before a loud chorus of, "YOU DID WHAT?" rang out from Danny, Jazz, Ida, and Pamela.

Sam and Lynne sat sharing a baffled look whilst Pamela looked a little less smug and a lot more mortified. Jazz gaped and Danny, the boy who always knew what to say, was left speechless. Ida and Jeremy seemed to be the only ones pleased about it. Sam noticed this and mentally dismissed it as 'like mother, like son' as she poked at her salad.

"This is fantastic. That's all I've heard from her. Blah-blah-blah. Hok a chainik! Just more and more yap-yap about the newlyweds' living situation. But this, this is a good fix." Ida nodded with a smile.

"O-Okay Mom, Dad you've got to take it back." Danny said.

"'Take it back'?" Maddie repeated with a laugh. "Danny, it's a house not a lawnmower. You can't just return it or take it back. It's your father's and my present to you…to you both." She turned her smile to Sam who responded with an unsure smile of her own.

"I think it's great." Jeremy announced. "And if you need any help with any of it you just let us know."

"Now just hold the phone!" Pamela spoke up. "Not that this isn't cute, but who is to say that I did not have a _gift_ planned for the _'kids' _myself?"

"'Gift' is German for poison, you know." Ida murmured into her soup.

"_I can hear you_." Pamela remarked sharply.

"_Good_." Ida responded just as sharply before muttering, "Red-haired dybbuk."

"We didn't mean to step on any toes, Pamela. We just wanted to have as much of an integral part in the kids' marriage as you do, and what better way than to present them with their first house; a home for our future grandchildren?"

"Grandchildren?" Jeremy's head lifted up toward Sam and Danny almost choked on a piece of bread.

"I knew you were pregnant." Lynne whispered.

"Don't make me shiv you." Sam whispered back, giving her a dangerous look out of the corner of her eye as her finger grazed the butter knife nearest her.

"And that's all fine and well, but as you said this wedding will be classy and sophisticated. That is what my Samantha is used to, and as apologetic as I am, I am afraid that whatever shack you and your husband have conjured up will be subpar."

"Pamela!"

"Nasty, nasty, ungrateful dybbuk!"

"Mom!"

"Mother." Came Sam's furiously cutting tone.

"Pardon me, Mrs. Manson, but though my husband and I are not from such substantial wealth as yourself we are quite proud of our income and the occupation that provides it. As far as it being a _shack_, I assure you that I want the best for Sam as well as you do and I would not place Sam _or_ Danny in anything that is _'subpar_'. Now this is a present for our children and if they will have it, it is theirs." Maddie spoke.

Sam had never seen Maddie Fenton angry, and the first impression of it was nothing short of memorable. One didn't have such a dangerous profession without the backbone that Maddie so obviously had. Maddie could indeed hold her own against her mother, proving where Danny had gotten it from. She hadn't realized it was possible to love Maddie more than she already did.

"Of course we'll have it…right, Danny?" Sam turned to her husband who simply nodded.

"Yes. Mom, Dad, thank you. You have no idea what this means." Sam and Jazz exchanged a look at the double entendre laced within Danny's words.

Jeremy then began speaking to Jack, who had remained silent, about something or another while two of the same staffers brought out appetizers. Small chatter had begun between Jazz and Lynne at the prospect of soon being loosely related; Maddie and Sam spoke about the house and the wonderful location; Grandma Manson gushed about what a 'hot tamale' Danny was and how Adam could shove something somewhere inappropriate. Pamela remained stony and silent.

All was well and the atmosphere began to gravitate toward a more congenial tone as the maid from earlier in the evening timidly attempted to make her presence known to Pamela who was either in her own angry world or who was just not in the mood to be attentive to her. Nothing existed to her in that moment. She was barely even aware of the sound of the various voices as she sat perched at the head of the table.

"Mrs. Manson…Mrs. Manson?"

"Maddie, it sounds amazing. Do you really think we need that much space though?"

"I don't know…I'm already Sam's sister and I can tell you. It's no cake walk. She gets irritable and violent and—ow! See?"

"Mrs. Manson?...Mrs. Manson?"

"I'm telling you, you even have better hair than he does. He probably doesn't wash it. Too busy wreaking havoc…destroying the lives of other people's granddaughters! Nafka!"

"Ah, Jer, you'd be much safer with the Fent-o-Guard installed in this baby. Big place like this could have ghosts all over the place and you'd never even know. I'd install it for free too. You're an honorary Fenton, we're family!"

"Shut up, Lynne. Jazz, ignore her. She was dropped on her head."

"Mrs. Manson?...Mrs. Manson, are you okay?"

"One of these days I'm going to buy a Yiddish dictionary. Just so I can converse with you."

"That's swell, Jack. What exactly does it do?"

"Haha, I'd rather Sam than Danny. He is _not_ a morning person. Living with that every morning for sixteen years? Nightmare. Oh, and the nights Tucker would sleep over? I've got stories."

"Do it! You're marrying my Sammy, and we will speak. Learn it and we can talk about the dybbuk. Do you text? What is your number?"

"Mrs. Manson? Please, Mrs. Manson. Are you ill? Can I get you a drink?"

"Oh, really? Please do tell."

"Oh yes, I would love to know the monster I'm due to wake up to…and not the car. Did you know we've renamed the car?"

"Betsy?"

"Monster."

"You don't even like Betsy, Sam! You can't go and rename my baby!"

"Ay-yai-yai. All of this baby talk tonight. Give an old woman a heart attack. Not that I'm saying to keep your hands off each other…you're young. Just like Filipe and I in Tijuana."

"Mrs. Manson?"

"What's a 'Betsy'?"

"Gross, Gram. Please don't tell that story again. And I think it's Sam and Danny's love child, Daddy."

"Oh, Danny for heaven's sake. With the price of gas you'd think you'd be less affectionate toward the thing."

"Mom, it is not a _thing_."

"Son, it's a bit unhealthy…this attachment to your vehicle. You need to get attached to Sam."

"It was a humid Mexican night and Filipe and I couldn't keep our hands off of each other…"

"Sweet Jesus, Grandma! I'd like to sleep tonight!"

"Mom, please."

"Haha. Mom, can you pass the salt?"

Seeming to snap out of her trance, Pamela looked to the table to see that the salt was nowhere near her. A quick glance up showed Maddie beaming as she passed Sam the salt. She gaped, feeling an emotion she was quite unsure of.

"Mrs. Manson?"

"WHAT?" Pamela screamed, earning a complete silence in the room.

"The roast…it is burned." The young maid said timidly. Making no remark, Pamela threw her chair back and stormed out of the room.

"That isn't the only thing." Ida chirped. "Now will it be pizza or Chinese?"

"I want Thai!"

"Shut up, Lynne."

Pamela made her way to the master bedroom and furiously swiped everything off of her dresser with a guttural scream. Expensive bottles of perfume fell to the floor, some cracking and spilling their contents while others lay haphazardly scattered. Makeup opened and leaked against her fingers as she angrily pounded on the dresser. _This would not happen to her_.

In a swift decision she searched erratically for her cellphone amongst the mess she'd made on the floor. "The burned hand teaches best…" she spat, dialing a number.

"Hello, Mayor Masters? It's time to return the favor. I need a property lookup. The last name? Fenton."


	12. It's My Birthday

Okay, you guys can't be mad at me for this one! This chapter is so long...I had to break it in half! Of course, Lynne's birthday is quite the event. So this chapter is the beginning and it continues in the next chapter. Get excited for Chapter 13. It's the beginning of what you guys have been waiting for. But...to get to that, we've gotta get through Chapter 12. So here we go!

* * *

The room was virtually silent aside from the nearby 'drip-drop' of the kitchen sink where she'd been too lazy to properly turn the faucet. Her mind was racing and yet incredibly still at the same time, if it made any sense, and she was growing more irritable by the second. Why? As if it were a mystery…if it wasn't one redhead, it was another…or rather _the_ other.

"She hates me." Was all she could think to say.

"Who?"

"Mom."

"Yep."

"That doesn't help, Lynne."

"Nope."

"Do you have somewhere…_anywhere_ else to be?" She already knew what the answer would be.

"Yep."

"Are you going anytime soon?" She also knew what the answer to this would be.

"Nope."

Sam sat on the floor against the sliding glass door, facing her younger sister who sat perched upon her couch…upside down. Her long red hair swept the floor and the eyes that matched her own stared back at her in a typical Lynne fashion. There was a rather informal stare-off before her younger sister began to explain herself.

"I'm here…to deliver a message…well, two messages. One more urgent than the other." Lynne informed her.

There was a brief silence where all that Sam heard was the distant ticking of the kitchen clock, a car horn honking obnoxiously beyond the small balcony behind her, the sound of the elevator in the hall, and of course, the stupid faucet.

"Well?" Sam asked impatiently. She got no response. Just background noise.

Used to her sister's antics she replied, "Never become a dispatcher. I'd hate to see the lives of others in your hands."

Lynne still failed to remark, so Sam got up and walked into the kitchen, only to come back a few moments later with a water bottle and her cell phone. The redhead frowned and made a desperate grasping motion toward her sister who raised an eyebrow before moving back across the room.

"Hey…where's mine?" she complained.

"At your own house. Where you belong. How did you get here, anyway?" Sam wondered, at least hoping to get something resolved during this impromptu visit. She turned her head to see if the driver was outside. He wasn't.

"Irrelevant, irritable hostess." Lynne retorted. It was obvious to Sam that she'd be receiving no information…well, valuable information, anytime soon. Of course, the one time she wanted her to speak would be the one time that she was actually quiet.

Sam pulled her laptop out of the case on the floor next to her and plugged the charger in before she turned it on, preparing to block out the noises of her sister. "I'm not your hostess. Go home."

"Not nice and no."

Accepting this and resigning to the fact that Lynne seemed to be there for no other reason than to irritate her, Sam began working on her laptop when a news update flashed across the screen. "Oh no, another forest fire in California…"

At this, Lynne sat up and glowered at her sister. "I warned you, you know."

Sam rolled her eyes and brushed her hair out of her face. She wondered what she'd gotten herself into, and cursed herself for not being more grateful for the silence. "For the last time, I'm pretty sure that I am not the _only_ one who can prevent a forest fire. I don't care what that stupid cartoon bear says."

"No, not that. Although Smokey's words are not to be taken lightly…I told you that if your wedding interfered with my birthday that I would kill you in your sleep, did I not?"

Sam barely glanced at her as she turned her attention back to her laptop. She pushed the 'M' key twice, sighing in mild frustration as it stuck again. Of course, she should have known. Then again, this was Lynne. "Did you now?"

"Yes!" Lynne insisted. "Yes, I did! When you first brought Loverboy home, I told you! And here it is, four days before my birthday and what have we? No concert plans, that's what! But a whole bunch of wedding crap is what we're stuck with!"

Yes, because this was all her idea. She was behind the whole thing. She was just a cruel mastermind who enjoyed planning weddings and destroying little girl's dreams. She was…her mother. Sam internally shuddered and regained her focus. Even sarcastically, that was not a place she wanted to go inside her mind.

"It's not like this is my fault." Sam replied, as a 'ding' came from the shiny red laptop in her lap.

Lynne looked as though she begged to differ. "Uh…but it is, Mrs. Samantha 'I-like-to-drink-and-get-married' Fenton!" Came her sister's rebuttal.

There was yet another pregnant pause filled with background sound before Sam simply said, "I'm choosing to ignore that."

It was better than being her mother.

"Sam!" Lynne said, stalking over to her. "This isn't fair! I haven't said boo about any of this wedding stuff from day one, but this is my birthday! My sixteenth birthday. Can I be allowed a break from the Manson family circus for a day, please? You get to escape, I don't!"

Sam closed her laptop and took a long look at Lynne. It was true, she had been a really good sport about all of this. She really hadn't said…'boo'. She didn't ask for near-bankruptcy and she didn't ask for a wedding fiasco…then again, neither had _she_. Was she subconsciously blaming herself? It wasn't that Sam didn't believe Lynne deserved all that she wanted and more, especially for her birthday, she just failed to see how it related to her. There was really nothing she could do and it wasn't like…

"_It wasn't like we did it on purpose, you know." Sam whispered into the phone. _

_Sam was far too intoxicated to really hear…or understand what the person on the other line was saying, so she continued on. _

"_And I love him…I've really never loved anyone the way that I love him. We k-…we know it's…it's soon. But I'm happy. I'm so happy…he's right here. He's sleeping…" she giggled. She then somehow managed to fall off of the bed and onto the floor on her back, with her legs up in the air and her head having just missed the leg of the nearby table. She glanced backward, looking under the table and sighed dreamily before whispering, "And he's upside down. I covered him with a blankie." _

_Sam then began to army crawl across the floor to the bathroom, dragging her cell phone along the carpet and getting rug burn on the hand that was not covered by the lei in the process. "We'll talk in here. It's much more quietly…quieter…quiet. And—"_

"_If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and call again. If you need help, hang up and then dial your operator."_

_Sam, in confusion looked down at the phone to see that not only had she apparently called the wrong number, but she wasn't even holding her own phone. She dropped the phone where she was as soon as she spotted her own cell phone lying haphazardly against her shoes on the other side of the table. With her phone in hand, she continued into the bathroom. _

"_Won't wake up Danny." She yawned as she clumsily crawled into the bathtub. Her phone clattered to the bottom of the tub as she fell asleep, her lei still tangled on her hand._

Sam held a hand to her head and ignored the questionable glance her sister was giving her. Who had she been trying to call?...More importantly, who had she actually called…on what could only have been Danny's phone?

"Alright, so have your cake and eat it too." Sam remarked, trying to shake the memory and the strange sense of déjà vu she always got afterward.

"I'd love to," Lynne sighed melodramatically. "Except for the fact that Mom is still off the deep-end from last Sunday and my birthday is _this_ Sunday. And Dad is still buried deep in financial stuff."

"Oh, she's off the deep-end?" Sam laughed harshly, standing up. "If anyone…_anyone_ should be 'off the freaking deep end' it should be me. She was a total and complete monster to The Fentons and always has been to Da—"

"Well, either way," Lynne informed, cutting off her sister's tirade. "Mom is not so much as over it as she still is…under…it? Look, point is that's why I'm here telling you about the wedding plans."

"You haven't told me anything!" Sam nearly snapped in exasperation.

"Because Mom's telling you!"

"So, what? She's actually speaking to me now?" Sam asked, rolling her eyes.

"Nooo, she's speaking to me and driving me here forcing me to speak to you…not that every moment hasn't been lovely and cherished, sister-dear." Lynne fluttered her eyebrows dramatically.

Today really was supposed to have been a nice…fairly uncomplicated day. She was supposed to wake up, hang out around the house, and catch up with her soon-to-be (if...you know, she wasn't already) sister-in-law. This…_not one little bit of this_ was on the day's agenda.

"She drove? And what is this about wedding plans?" Sam questioned, rubbing her temples gently. She'd taken college courses that were less challenging than a conversation with her sister.

"Hahaha…no. That's child endangerment. Ol' Pam isn't hard enough for the big house, Sammy. And yes, the wedding plans. But first the birthday plans!"

"Lynne! Would you focus? Birthday plans, birthday plans! As for your birthday, it isn't hard! It's your birthday! I'm sure Dad has money aside for it, and if need-be, 'Happy Birthday, little sister', I will pay for it." Sam said.

"You'll pay for it?"

"I will pay for it."

"But…what if it's like a million dollars?"

"What concert is a million dollars, Lynne?"

"I dunno…I can find one."

"Lynne!" She was getting more frustrated, if possible. Sometimes speaking to her sister was like conversing with a wall…a really loud and bothersome wall.

"Okay, I'm sorry! But the concert is not the problem! I need a chaperone." Lynne said, turning her pleading amethyst eyes on her sister.

"What? Whoa. Make Mom go!"

"That rhymed. Like an angry chant. And she won't! Not after the last time and plus she's all emotionally damaged. And Dad can't go because of all the business stuff." Lynne challenged.

"Emotionally—!" Sam took a moment to regain her composure. "Lynne, I love you…most of the time. Okay, but you've seen the last two weeks of my life. It is hectic all the way around. I have had more drama and excitement and..._threats to my life_ in the last two weeks than I've had in the last two years...despite the fact that our mother is…our mother! And there's just the little detail of the fact that I'm getting married and I don't even know the date!" she sighed, frustrated.

"Well, look at that! That's what I'm here to tell you! It's June 17th!" Lynne beamed. Sam nearly choked on her water.

"Today is the 26th! That…is soon…-ish." Sam faltered, staring at Lynne. "…Alright, Lynne. What exactly are you asking me for?"

"To chaperone!" Lynne cried.

"No." Her sister responded, deadpan.

"But Sam!"

"No, no, no. No way in Hell, no! Why can't security take you?" Sam asked, pacing nearer to the couch.

"We're in the poorhouse, Sam! Security is expensive! Who do you think we are, the Hiltons?" Lynne asked, emphatically waving her arms around.

"There has to be another way." Sam muttered.

"No! You're the only way…and if we are the Hiltons, I call Nicky." Lynne galloped over to her and stuck out her bottom lip. "Sister…darling, darling sister. Your beauty shines in such radiance—"

Sam's frustrated groan interrupted her impromptu sonnet. She was suddenly completely frustrated, and she wasn't sure whether it was because of the wedding bomb that had just been dropped on her, or the fact that she'd just gotten stuck with Paris. "Look, even if I did agree to this there is no way that Danny is going to—"

"Danny is gonna what?" Sam and Lynne's heads whipped toward the front door of Sam's apartment as Danny shut it behind him. He was so stealthy sometimes. She hated that.

"—do any of the wedding planning alone with our mother." Sam finished, still trying to figure out how he'd gotten in without her hearing him.

"He has a key?" Lynne pouted, not even bothering to greet him. "Why don't I have a key?"

Sam walked over to Danny to receive a slight hug. "Because I'm not marrying you."

Lynne snorted. "Thankfully. I don't know if my sucking-up gave you the wrong idea, but I just don't feel that way about you. There are laws, Samantha."

Lynne flung herself onto Sam's couch, this time right-side-up. Sam picked up one of the pillows that she had dropped onto the floor and threw it at her face with a stern look. "Somehow I'll survive. But my answer is still no."

Lynne stood up hurriedly, then sat back down due to extreme head rush. "Is this because I rejected you?" Then more seriously she pleaded, "But it's my birthday! And no one would be stuck with Mom! And I definitely don't wanna be stuck with Mom! Don't make me be stuck with Mom…on my birthday! My birthday! Please, I need you both."

Wearing down slightly, Sam sighed and picked up her laptop with a shake of her head. "Ask him." She remarked before exiting the living room.

Lynne excitedly leapt up again and turned to Danny. "Danny…brother-in-law, friend, father of the child you and Sam keep denying, attendee of my birthday…"

"Hello to you, too. Your birthday's on Sunday, right?" Danny interjected.

"Yes. It is, kind brother-in-law who my grandmother thinks is hot. And you shall be in attendance, yes?" Lynne asked, turning her pleading amethyst eyes to Danny this time.

"That's not asking!" Sam called from the hallway.

"Asking? Asking what?" Danny asked the little redhead.

Danny wasn't quite sure what to expect. He'd only been left alone with Lynne a handful of times and it still made him slightly uneasy. Maybe it was because the younger girl was so unpredictable. If he hadn't known any better he'd wonder if she was possessed. But he did know better…because Jack had had his suspicions about Lynne after the dinner and had forced him to scan Sam just yesterday. If Sam had been anywhere near a ghost, the Fenton Spectral Scanner would have unleashed all of its bells and whistles.

Luckily, Sam hadn't minded and had actually seemed pretty amused with the whole thing.

"A favor…a small favor…maybe even so small that it isn't even considered a favor…" Lynne began.

"That's **not** asking!" Sam called out again. Lynne rolled her eyes.

"Fine! Danny will you and Sam please chaperone my birthday trip to a concert?" she finally spit out. It made her a little nervous that Danny seemed to take a moment or two before answering. He was supposed to be the easy one!

"Erm, it's not Justin Bieber is it? I don't have anything against the kid but I'd really rather not be submerged within a mob of screaming little girls and their moms…"

From the other room Sam began laughing. Lynne wasn't sure whether it was because of the truth in his words or the severe nervousness in his voice as he said this.

"No, no. It's not Bieber. I don't have the fever…Fi does though. She's obsessed…" Lynne trailed off in thought, envisioning her best friend's wall plastered in all things Justin.

"Then okay, fine." Danny nodded with a relieved smile.

Sam came back into the room, wearing sweatpants and a tank-top with her hair pulled back into a ponytail with a hairclip. She sat the sneakers she was carrying by the front door. She had just texted Jazz to tell her she'd be a little late for their run since she had unexpected visitors.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. Now what exactly are the details of this evening? Where is this concert? What concert is this? And who's going?" Sam asked, her older sister instincts kicking in.

"Maternal instincts, say what?" Lynne joked, until she saw Sam's face. "Okay, the concert's in Clarkston, the band is—my favorite band in the whole entire universe—Mayday Parade, and it's only me, Fi, and a few friends."

"A few friends?" Sam repeated.

"A few friends." Lynne nodded.

Okay…she could do this.

* * *

She did not want to do this. That Sunday afternoon found Sam and Danny making their way up the long and familiar driveway. Sam's face held a scowl that she refused to remove…in fact, no part of her wanted to move.

"I don't understand why we had to get here so early." Sam argued.

Danny glanced at her as he parked his precious vehicle and gathered his keys in his hand. "Be…cause your mother said so?"

"And why am I doing what she says?" Sam snapped irritably. Danny stared at her before he began to chuckle.

"…Why…are you laughing?" Sam questioned. In her opinion, there was nothing funny. It was hot, in reality there were a thousand other places she'd rather have been, and there were places she was supposed to have been…

"No reason." He replied simply as they made their way towards the mansion doors. "Oh, I found out what a 'dybbuk' is. I hope your mom never finds out…"

One of the gardeners spotted Sam and waved at her amicably. She returned his wave with a small smile before turning to Danny and raising an eyebrow. "I hope none of us ever find out." She remarked as she rang the doorbell.

Surprisingly, it was Pamela who answered. "Mom."

It was both odd yet familiar to see her mother after their period of silence...the silence that she had once complained about craving. This silence wasn't as fulfilling as she had hoped it would be though. Perhaps it was because it felt like a false victory.

"Mom? And now she says it. Is that who I am to you? I feared you had forgotten." Her mother remarked dryly. Sam stood, silent and stubborn, staring at her mother until she moved to allow them both entrance into the Manson home. Where was that silence, again? Was it really gone already? Sam felt slighted and gypped.

Having heard the front door close, Lynne hurriedly bounded down the stairs, unknowingly ending the stare-off between her mother and sister. She beamed brightly at the three of them, dressed in dark blue skinny jeans and an off the shoulder royal blue top that popped against her bright red hair.

"Today is my birthday, hurrah-hurray! Today is my birthday…oh when? Today! Today…today…huzzah…hurrah…!" Lynne danced around the three of them, excitedly doing a peculiar little jig in which her feet were constantly leaving the floor and her hair had whipped both Danny and Sam in the face more than twice.

"Lynnette, please. Stop that incessant flouncing. You're giving me a migraine…and next, an ulcer." It did not go unnoticed by Sam that her mother's gaze had turned to her at this point. She had expected an attack, but it seemed a little more than unfair that Lynne was made to be the villain too, especially on her birthday.

Lynne either didn't notice, or didn't seem to mind however and was hurriedly chattering away with (or rather at) Danny about the night's upcoming events. Rather than to participate in the childish game of steely silence that her mother was playing, she made an attempt to listen to her sister.

"…and then Fi said that when they go into 'Get Up' they do this thing that's completely beast…"

…It was an attempt. Not a successful attempt, but it was an attempt nonetheless. She would have willingly continued her attempt had Danny not asked her sister, "Who are we going to go see again?"

Lynne, always the theatrical one, gave a dramatic gasp and feigned ill.

"May…day…Pa…rade. Only the best band in the history of the galaxy! Hello, 'Black Cat', 'Jersey', 'I Hate To Be You When People Find Out What This Song Is About', 'Champagne's For Celebrating (I'll Have A Martini)', 'Jamie All Over', 'Still Breathing', and of course my all-time favorite, 'The Silence'! You've never heard of Mayday Parade?"

Danny barely had a chance to blink before Lynne all but assaulted him. Sam watched in bemusement as Danny was dragged up the stairs by her sister's death grip. She heard resounding footsteps go up the stairs and disappear before she acknowledged the fact that she was there…alone…with her mother. Crap.

"You're quite possibly wondering why I've called for you so early." Pamela remarked, off-handedly. Sam decided to brush off not only her tone, but the fact that she had apparently been "called for".

"Quite possibly." She repeated, feeling a bit of battle lust.

"Samantha, if you could just stop being so—"

"Why…are we here?" Sam interrupted.

She was seriously not in the mood for her mother and all of the drama that accompanied her. All she wanted; all she'd had planned was a nice, relaxing day in which she would prepare for what she had no doubt would be the loudest evening of her life. A concert would be fine, but a concert with Lynne and company? She'd never be the same.

"As I'm sure your sister has told you, you and…Danny will be married in approximately eighteen days. Now, since the last planned…affair—" Sam took this time to wrinkle her nose and look away while her mother continued. "—did not go as intended, you shall be pleased to discover that Paulina Sanchez will not continuing her role as your wedding planner."

Sam, who had been mentally tracing the lines of the carpet, looked up at her mother in surprise. "I'm sorry…what?"

"In an effort to prevent another unfortunate situation in which I am embarrassed to be called your mother," Pamela began, ignoring Sam's irritated scowl. "Precautions have been taken. When one wants something done…one must do it _herself_."

"You sound like a pimp, Mom. Is this the part where you threaten to use your backhand?" Sam asked, glancing behind her mother to see Danny and Lynne making their way back down the stairs.

"What? Mom's gonna backhand a 'ho?" Lynne called. It was luckily for her that her mother hadn't heard. Pamela was far too busy frowning at Sam. She responded by shaking her head with a sigh.

"Well, you're in luck, Mom. Pretty soon, you won't be the only mother that'll have to bury her head in shame at my antics." Behind her mother, Danny winced.

Okay, so maybe she knew. Maybe she knew that she shouldn't have said it. Maybe saying it was sort of…a low blow. Honestly, the first time hadn't had any ulterior motive behind it. Despite the very apparent idea Pamela had about Sam saying it just to "destroy her" (exact wording later relayed to her by Lynne), she honestly hadn't been thinking about her mother. …Was that the problem? No. She was not going to go feeling guilty about finding a motherly figure in someone else when Pamela hadn't ever tried...ever!

She wasn't going to just push Maddie away because it made her mother uncomfortable or brought out her insecurities. Pamela Manson had to learn that some things were out of her control. And plus, she'd had her chance! She'd had every opportunity in the world to step up.

Sam had had her fill of her mother's antics. Things had gone way too far and she had no one to blame but herself. She couldn't even give an honest answer to herself when she'd asked herself for weeks—months why she had gone through with almost becoming Mrs. Cain. Maybe she did marry Danny on purpose. Maybe there was something inside of her that just couldn't bear the thought of an empty future filled with nights of shutting poor little Otis out. A life compiled of nights of locking herself and her inner demons and regrets away whilst she drank herself into a stupor. Maybe…maybe she didn't want to be her mother.

…And she positively, without a shadow of a doubt hated, absolutely hated the name 'Otis'. It sent horrible images of a little horse boy through her head.

"Although it is obvious that you are quite anxious to become a Fenton, do remember who you were born to, Samantha." Pamela practically spat.

Lynne and Danny stood in absolute silence. Danny looked as though he wanted to interject, but Sam glanced at him, stopping any action he might have taken. Sam wanted to retort, but she found that she had nothing to say. Seeing this, Pamela continued smugly.

"Shun me, shun our family name. Go ahead. But do remember that this name gave you _everything_ that you have and without it you'd hope to gain _nothing_. That being said, here." Pamela handed Sam an envelope that she had failed to notice her mother holding.

"What's this?" Sam asked, lamely.

"It would seem there are unresolved issues in this family. Who would have thought?" Pamela remarked off-handedly, making her way up the stairs. "We have eighteen days not only to create the perfect wedding…but to mold the perfect couple. There are eyes on you now. Scathing eyes."

Danny raised an eyebrow before taking the letter from Sam. Opening it, his expression was blank.

* * *

"Therapy. Therapy. Is she kidding? Okay, if ever there were anyone in this family to need therapy…" Sam gave a pointed look in the rearview mirror at her sister, who was happily sitting behind her, texting up a storm.

"I can hear you." Came Lynne's response.

"And whose fault is that? You're staying in the car, so you coming along was…is pointless." Sam informed her, reading over the letter again.

Danny changed lanes as they approached their exit. They were headed toward the business district in town and though he wasn't too familiar with the area, he had a basic idea of where they were headed.

"Okay, I don't understand this. Your mother signed you up for therapy? Because you called my mom, 'Mom'? Can't you just…I don't know…apologize?" Danny asked, casting a very annoyed look to a young brunette girl on her cellphone in a blue Volkswagen, who had cut him off.

"There is no apologizing to that woman, though I did nothing wrong. And no, sir. _We_ are signed up for therapy. Couples therapy, to be exact. And all of this will be solved as soon as we go into this place and meet with..." Sam quickly scanned the letter until the name popped out at her. "Dr. Young."

A few more minutes of driving found Danny, Sam, and Lynne outside of a very modern looking grey stone and glass building. It had to be at least seven stories tall with intricate gardening work lining the path. Across the yard, they could make out shrubbery in the silhouettes of various men and women.

"Maybe…this is like…some kind of creepy sex therapy." Lynne said, staring suspiciously at the yard and forcing Danny to drop his keys. He banged his head against the steering wheel as he tried to retrieve them.

"Maybe you should shut up…and stay in the car." Sam answered, not feeling as comfortable as she had. Of course, the petite redhead disregarded her sister's words.

'_Only because it's her birthday…'_ Sam thought to herself, offering Danny a sympathetic smile as he rubbed his forehead.

As soon as they'd read the placard and found that they were supposed to be on floor five, they went into the elevator and very quickly found themselves in a reception area. Sam took the initiative to walk up to the front desk, and approach the woman who's desk plate read 'Brenda Spinelli'.

"Hi, my name is Samantha…" She faltered. What was her last name? Or better yet, what had her mother said her last name was. She and Danny were getting married, so soon she'd be a Fenton…so was she a Manson? (Okay, re-married. Potatoes, Po-ta-toes.) She didn't have a chance to process the thought as Danny came forward.

"Daniel Fenton. We have an appointment with a Dr. Young." The hefty blonde receptionist slowly spun herself to her computer where she seemingly typed in Danny's name.

"Yeah. Daniel Fenton, Samantha Manson-Fenton. Gotcha right here. Dr. Young just ran out for a sec. Have a seat in her office. First door on the left, past the drinking fountain and the bathroom. If you see a vending machine, 'ya gone too far." She rattled off in a thick Jersey accent.

The three of them walked away as she picked up the phone rather impatiently. "You there? So like I was sayin', I had to tell this guy, 'Just 'cause I'm from Jersey don't mean I fist pump'. Of all the stupid things. I'm thirty-seven years old. What do I look like with my arms in the air like some schmuck? You know who does that pumpin' business? My brother. Got his hair all spiked up, greasy and orange like a Cheeto. Ridicul—"

Making their way down the hallway per the woman's instructions, they walked into Dr. Young's office to see that it was indeed empty. Immediately, Lynne rushed to the wall with the large bookshelf containing several trinkets, pamphlets, and open books.

"Don't break anything. Our family's poor." Sam warned her.

"Then…how are they paying for therapy?" Lynne challenged.

…Good point.

"Hey….look at this guy. His birthday is the same as his…deathday! That is so chill. I wanna die on my birthday too." Lynne informed, rifling through the hundreds of books on the shelf.

"Then keep talking." Sam said, shooting her a glare. Danny stifled a laugh.

Before anyone else could take another action, the door swung open and an older looking woman walked in with a smile. "Hello, it's nice to meet you, my name is Dr. Young."

The three muttered greetings toward the woman as she made her way behind her desk and to her very comfortable looking, red swiveling chair. She slid her glasses down to the tip of her nose and peered at Danny and Sam in silence before she began to speak.

"You're wondering why you're here…I can see it in your faces." She remarked, answering a question that hadn't yet been asked. She looked at Lynne and gestured toward the empty seat next to her sister. Without a word, Lynne sat down and looked that the woman intently. Sam felt confused and astonished all at once. What kind of wizardry could make Lynne…sit down?

"There is concern," the therapist told the pair of them serenely, "that the two of you aren't as related as you should be." She alternated the legs she was crossing and looked at the two of them individually.

"Lady, if these two were related, I think we'd have bigger problems than an initial drunken romance." Lynne butt in.

Sam pinched her. "Prepare her tombstone." She murmured to Danny, sending Lynne another of the looks she'd become so accustomed to receiving.

"Well…yes. There is much that I'd like to discuss with you, though today is not the day to do so. I realize that the two of you seem to feel as though there's no point to this, but at the very least…attend one session. What could it hurt? The worst it could do is confirm your suspicions, and the least it can do is reveal aspects about yourselves that you've kept hidden from each other…from yourselves."

Danny looked slightly nervous about this, and Sam couldn't blame him. Therapy, no matter how charming or insightful the good doctor appeared to be, didn't make her feel any more confident on the matter. If she was hiding something from herself, there was probably a good reason! Who was this woman?

Sam barely noticed as Dr. Young shook hands with them and was in her own world as they made their way out of the building and into the car. Danny had apparently had a revelation of his own as he sat with the key barely touching the ignition.

"Did…your mom say we were getting married in eighteen days?"

"Yep."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"So…about my birthday…"

"Shut up, Lynne."

"Okay."

Danny's phone rang, bringing Sam completely out of her own mind. She buckled her seatbelt and looked forward with a deep sigh. She was getting married in eighteen days, she was being punished with therapy, she was about to accompany her sister and friends to some teenage rock-fest, and to top it all off her slightly opinionated view of the residents of New Jersey was completely skewed. _Thanks, Brenda._

"I think I wanna be a therapist." Lynne said, more to herself than to anyone else.

Danny hung up the phone and the car began to take off, leaving Sam with yet another dilemma.

"You need a therapist." Sam barely heard herself remark.

Who had she called?


	13. I Can Cry If I Want To

Continuing the drive home had been relatively uneventful for the most part. Sam sat, her body turned toward the window, as she concentrated on the hundreds of dashed white lines on the road. Without paying attention, she could tell when Danny sped up by how the lines slowly morphed into one long continuous line. Danny seemed lost in his own thoughts and Sam was silently praying that it wasn't because of the newly revealed wedding date.

It was rather soon, wasn't it? It was a completely different thing to get married as opposed to waking up married; she wouldn't blame him if he backed out. Being completely honest, part of her sincerely wanted to back out. Not because she didn't like Danny…well, not that she _liked_ Danny, but she cared for Danny…but not like _that_ but…

Sam sighed in mild frustration and pretended that she didn't notice Danny glance over at her.

Weddings…marriage…it all made her just a little uneasy. She'd escaped an arranged marriage…to fall right into another. The question was who exactly had done the arranging here?

"If you've got ghosts, who do you trust the most…" Lynne sang enthusiastically.

If Sam hadn't have been so consumed with her thoughts, she would have reached back and smacked her, birthday or not. Luckily, more for Lynne's sake than her own, Danny didn't seem to be much of a fan of the song either.

"Lynne, please…" Danny practically begged.

Just hearing the song forced his forehead to crease and Sam could obviously understand why. As much as she loved the Fentons, the song was grating. That and the fact that it reminded her of Paulina and all that was Paulina just made her feel ill. Speaking of Paulina…

Lynne shrugged apologetically before she turned back to the book that she'd apparently brought with her. Though Sam was suspicious, she focused on what she'd deemed the task at hand.

"So is it true or is Mom just using every battle tactic she can think of?" she asked, watching Lynne in the mirror.

Danny glanced at Lynne in the rearview mirror but said nothing and continued driving. Merging into the right lane, he prepared to take them off of the parkway and back to the mansion. He'd probably never get over the fact that he was able to say "back to the mansion" so casually, but he was adjusting. He made his way behind a blue Corolla and followed the lane to a normal street.

Lynne caught Danny's glance before staring at the passenger seat in front of her. "Is that like…code for something? Did you put a hit on Mom?"

Sam stopped mid eye-roll as she realized that the idea wasn't as ludicrous as it sounded. It was illegal, yes, but maybe not so farfetched.

"No, I didn't put a hit on Mom." She answered, swatting at Danny after the muttered, "Yet." came from the driver's seat.

"I was referring to her claim that Princess Paulina wouldn't be taking the reins this time."

Lynne shrugged, this time in confusion. "I mean, I heard her say it too and I haven't seen Paulina around, but I don't know. She could always change her mind, too." She reminded her older sister.

Sam frowned and sat still in thought until a ringtone from her phone rang loudly, interrupting the quiet that had developed in the car. Danny raised an eyebrow at her and she remarked, "It's Jazz."

"You have a Ke$ha ringtone for my sister?...You have a Ke$ha ringtone?" Danny asked, switching his left blinker off.

"Yes and I also have a phone call from your sister—Hello?" Sam picked up the phone and her eyebrows instantly furrowed. "Wait…what? Jazz, slow down. I can barely understand you."

Danny tossed her an incredibly worried look and looked ready to pull over and turn the car off. Behind him, Lynne sat in oblivion, still looking through the large book that she had somehow gotten into the car without anyone noticing. Seeing Danny's face, Sam shook her head and held a finger up to him before laughing into the phone.

"Are you serious?...Well, it can't be that bad…" She shook her finger at Danny before nodding for him to continue on. As soon as the light turned green, he did so.

"Well, you should be used to it by now…yeah, he's right here. He's driving. I'll put you on speaker, hold on." Sam pulled her Blackberry away from her face and pushed a button on the side of her phone.

"Did you do it?" Jazz's voice erupted from the phone.

"Yeah, he can hear you. Lynne's here too." Sam answered just as soon as Lynne loudly announced herself.

"Right. Well as I was saying, since there seems to be a shortage of Fentons around today, Tucker has taken it upon himself to elect me as the one to keep him company all day. All day!" Jazz exclaimed.

Danny and Sam laughed. "Like I said, you should be used to it. From what I hear, Tucker's over your parents' house nearly every day." Sam replied.

They could hear Jazz's exasperation through the phone as she cried, "But that's the point! I'm not at my parents' house! I'm at _my _house. Tucker's never been to _my_ house…well not without Danny…and obviously Danny isn't here!"

Danny gave a slight snort under his breath. "Obviously." He mimicked his sister. Sam could imagine the look Jazz would be giving him had she not been on the other end of the phone.

"The point is since both of you have left me high and dry—and yes, I do mean both of you—I'm stuck as the replacement Fenton!" Jazz practically whimpered.

Danny laughed as he pulled Betsy into the Mansons' long driveway for the second time that day. "You really shouldn't have such a low opinion of yourself, sis." He grinned.

Jazz sputtered something before a doorbell was heard in the background, causing her to mutter, "Crap. Gotta go. You both owe me. Big."

Sam waited for silence on the other end before she looked at her screen to confirm that Jazz had indeed hung up. She went to unbuckle her seatbelt when she noticed Lynne already sprinting from the car. Danny raised an eyebrow, so she explained, "Fi's here."

"How can you tell?" Danny asked.

"Well, it's her birthday and she wouldn't be running to my mother…"

Sam prepared to get out of the car when something caught her eye in the mirror. She turned in the passenger seat to see the red leather-bound book sitting in the backseat.

"Is that Lynne's?" Danny asked. Sam nodded and reached backward to get it. She felt her shirt ride up and attempted to pull it down with one hand as she continued to reach for her sister's mysterious book. Book in hand, Sam fixed herself to see Danny looking out of the window, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Way to be repulsive, Manson…" she muttered under her breath.

Danny turned to her with a look of confusion and she flashed him a brief smile before getting out of the car. Danny, still with what Sam hated herself for admitting was an adorably confused look on his face, followed her to the front door. Holding the book in her left hand, Sam pushed the door open with her right. She quickly took two steps back to avoid smashing into Fi, who was in the process of leading Lynne out of the door. Before she could inquire as to why they were in such a rush, Lynne swiftly reached around her best friend to snatch the book away from her sister.

"Did you peek?" She demanded, flipping rapidly through the pages.

Sam's eyes narrowed suspiciously. She moved the two of them aside so that she and Danny could enter before saying, "No…why?"

Fi smiled brightly and looked between Danny and Sam with a look in her eyes that made Sam slightly nervous, though she wouldn't admit it. Lynne and Fi shared a look that forced Danny to cough uncomfortably.

"Lynne…what's in the book?" Sam asked sternly.

Lynne batted her eyelashes and remarked, "You'll find out…soon enough."

"Or now." Danny said. He reached around both Sam and Fi so quickly that neither of them felt they'd had time to blink. Lynne stood there, practically astonished as she stared at the book in Danny's hands that was, just moments ago, in her own. Sam turned to stand beside Danny as he opened the book. Danny looked up at Lynne and Fi who had chosen to all but cower in the corner.

She watched as Danny flipped through one or two blank pages before her eyes were met with an image of…herself. Confused, she turned the next page herself to see a photo of Danny, and then various photographs together at the dinner. Adam was in the background of one looking incredibly smug, and in another looking as if he'd just been winded. It was obvious which one was post-pain infliction. She looked toward her sister and the girl who was over her parents' house enough that she should have been called her sister, and found all that would come out was, "What?"

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it was Fi who spoke up happily. "It's your wedding album!"

"It's our what?" Danny and Sam asked in unison. Sam got a slight chill from the awkward connection.

"Your wedding album, sister dear." Lynne continued. "You didn't have one, so Fi here took it upon herself to scrapbook the magic."

Sam paused. She opened her mouth and then closed it. She looked at Danny, then Lynne, and finally Fi. She then decided it would be best if she said nothing and just rubbed her temple as she closed the book, leaving it in Danny's hands, and made her way up the staircase.

"Where you going?" Either Lynne or Fi called after her. She was too far away to distinguish their voices…or maybe it was because the "magic" had drained the little energy she had left. She had just reached her bedroom door when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She answered it, far too tired and consumed with the question of when she'd turned her ringer off to see who it was. …How many times was she going to make this mistake?...And how many times was it going to be—

"Paulina. It wasn't my decision. When is anything wedding related ever my decision? I—" Sensing that the Latina was not going to let her finish her sentence anytime soon, she hung up. One never did tire of hanging up on Paulina, you know.

Throwing herself upon her childhood bed, Sam couldn't remember the last thing she thought of as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Giggling…obnoxious giggling. It sounded like some kind of teenage girl chorus where there was nothing but giddy little…giggles. Sam opened both of her eyes to see an unfamiliar blonde girl standing over her. Sam's eyes immediately shot to the three very tiny black butterflies she had tattooed above her left, perfectly penciled eyebrow.

"Hey, her sis is awake. Someone go tell her boyfriend." The girl said, still uncomfortably close to her face. She had a gruff voice, and she smelled like cigarettes…and something alcoholic. Sam sat up slowly as to not accidentally smack faces with the girl, and hoped she would move away. She did, though slower than Sam would have preferred.

"It's her husband." A voice that sounded like Fi's said matter-of-factly.

"Lucky girl." The girl who she hoped was Lynne's age said.

"Mhm."

"My mom's magazine said newlyweds do it...like...a lot."

"He looks like your brother, Jenna."

"Shut…up. Gross times ten trillion." Jenna, who was still a little too close to Sam than she was comfortable with, suddenly seemed much more like a teenage girl. She felt a little guilty for almost judging her. Maybe her mother was a crazy alcoholic too.

Sam looked around her old room to see it full of at least fifteen girls. She blinked over and over, somehow willing this to be an illusion. For some reason, she had stupidly allowed herself to believe that her "few friends" and Lynne's definition of a "few friends" was the same. It was just the same as her mother's definition, now that she thought about it.

"Where's Danny?" she asked, knowing that at least one of the many strangers would have to know the answer. Taking the time to actually look at them, Sam noticed that they were all in matching purple and black t-shirts with "Team Lynne" splashed across the front in a paint splattered font. Raising an eyebrow, she made her way to the door as someone answered, "Downstairs with the guys."

The guys? Okay…so there were guys…and they were downstairs with Danny. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of Danny protecting the virtue of a bunch of girls he'd never met, besides Fi and Lynne. As soon as she'd reached Danny, who was closer to the door than to the four or five guys down there in blue versions of the same t-shirts, there was a bright flash. Everyone turned to the stairs where Fi stood near the bottom, smiling and proudly waving her digital camera.

"Albummmm." She sang. Sam could have killed her. Instead she asked, "Where's Lynne?"

"Upstairs somewhere." Came her adopted sister's answer. She took the unspoken hint and ran off to find her, but not before flashing a dazzling smile to one of the two blonde boys downstairs. He grinned back, before looking over at Danny and taking on a stoic expression. Sam fought off a laugh at the threatening speech Danny must've given in her absence.

"I was just about to come and get you. The driver said it should be another fifteen minutes before he's ready." Danny told her, eyeing the group of guys behind her. The dull chatter behind her quieted, making her curious enough to turn around with a raised eyebrow. None of them would meet her gaze, except for a brave brunette boy with beautiful green eyes. He smiled at her and Sam politely smiled back before he took on the same eyes-to-the-ground position as the other four.

She turned around to Danny and murmured, "They're teenage boys, not dangerous criminals." Danny stood with his arms folded and looked away from her as if to say that his position on the matter could not be changed.

"Fine. What are we taking them in anyway, a tour bus?" Sam joked. She was only half kidding though, and wouldn't be very surprised if a double decker bus was parked in front of the door. Upon opening it however, she was greeted with the sight of a large white stretch limousine and her father's black BMW. She turned back to Danny quizzically and he shrugged.

"Your dad came around about twenty minutes ago. He said the limo was for Lynne and her friends, and you and I would be following them in his car. He didn't seem to need it though since he drove off in some other car. I'm guessing that was another one of his?" Danny asked. It wasn't really a question since they both knew the answer.

"One of three." Sam answered.

"One of three." Danny repeated. His tone was different however, as if he were still adjusting to it all. She didn't doubt that he was.

With a sigh Sam decided to see what was keeping Lynne and Fi. She made her way up the stairs and down the long corridor. She passed her own bedroom which was still filled with underage girls and was about to turn left to make her way to her sister's room when something provoked her to turn right. Before she could stop herself or even wonder what it was that she was doing, she found herself knocking briskly on her mother's door.

One knock, then two, and Pamela opened the door. She seemed just as surprised to see Sam as Sam was to be knocking in the first place.

"Yes, Samantha?" she questioned warily. She leaned into the door and cast a shadowy gaze upon her daughter in suspicion. Sam wasn't offended because she felt that her reaction would have been exactly the same had the roles been reversed.

"I just…wanted to let you know that we're taking off now." Sam cleared her throat. Her mother stood still for a moment before she nodded briefly.

"Very well." Pamela nodded. Sam went to walk away when she heard her name. She turned around to see her mother covering herself with her robe and barely meeting her glance.

"I tried, Samantha. I failed…but I tried." Pamela said. Her face didn't reveal it, but the crack in her voice made Sam aware of her mother's impending tears.

Sam got ready to walk away, but faltered in her steps toward her sister's bedroom. She took a deep breath and returned her mother's nod. "I know, Mother. I know."

At this, Pamela's tears came more easily and she gave a haggard sigh. "I am your mother...but she is 'Mom'. I have tried...and I have failed."

Before Sam could react, the door shut just as elusively as it had opened and Sam found herself standing alone again. She shifted her weight to the other leg while she deliberated what she should do next and processed what she had just experienced before she shook her head and brushed her fingers through her hair with a rough sigh.

She didn't even acknowledge the fact that she'd just mimicked Danny again and only when her hand happened to touch her face did she realize that she had teared up. She wiped her eyes with the knuckle of her right index finger before she rushed toward Lynne's room, anxious to get away from her mother and her melodramatic behavior. She let herself into her sister's room to see the aforementioned and Fi huddled together near the window, their t-shirt clad backs turned to her. Sam took in her surroundings and cringed. There were clothes…everywhere. Staring at her t-shirt, Sam knew this mess could not have possibly been because she hadn't known what to wear—they were all wearing the same thing!

"Lynne. Let's go." She said, announcing her presence.

The two of them jumped and Lynne's eyes flitted toward the open door before she gestured for her sister to quickly come inside and close the door behind her. Sam did so, confused by her sister's unusual behavior. Lynne was weird, but this was weird even for her.

"What are you guys doing? It better not be drugs." Sam added as an afterthought. She surveyed the room to make sure.

"We're not on crack, Sam." Lynne rolled her eyes, earning her a suspicious look from her older sister, who kicked a pile of clothes aside with her foot.

"No one said anything about crack…" Sam answered coolly.

Fi rolled her eyes and shook her head rapidly. "No one's on drugs. This is so much more important than drugs. This is a matter of life and death!"

Deciding to humor them, possibly because it was her sister's birthday, but more so because she really wanted to get out of the pit that Lynne called a room, she shrugged compliantly. "Enlighten me."

"There's this girl. Her name is Shana. Shana—"

"Winford? The girl that made you two cry in the fourth grade?" Sam asked, interrupting Fi. She received a solemn nod from the both of them.

"Today's her birthday too and she took half of Lynnie's birthday guests. And now she's after her boyfriend." Fi filled in. At this, Lynne slumped to the floor and hugged her knees.

Sam took a step back. Okay…so that answered the unasked question of what 'Team Lynne' was all about. While Sam did feel a bit of gratitude for those that had shown up in support of her sister, she couldn't shake off the matter at hand.

"Boyfriend?...Whoa, half? Okay, seriously kid. What does 'a few friends' mean to you?" Sam exclaimed. She saw Lynne's face and softened. What was it with the other Manson women pulling her heartstrings in the last ten minutes?

"Alright, so this Shana girl—who is obviously a guest stealing, ignorant skank—isn't here, right? Right. So why are you sitting here, upset as if she is? She is God knows where and should not be on your mind at all. The people…the obscene amount of people…in this house are here for you. They chose you. They're wearing their t-shirts proudly and they're ready to have fun. The only thing missing is you. Don't make them wish they had chosen Shana."

Lynne leapt up and captured her sister in a bear hug. "Thanks Sammy."

Sam sighed and peeled Lynne off of her. She took three long strides toward the door before she turned and gestured for the other two to follow her out. "Thank me if we all make it through tonight alive."

She went closer to the door and tripped over a pair of jeans strewn on the floor. "Jeez, Lynne! Is this all laundry?"

Her sister walked around her, followed by Fi. "Dirty, clean…stuff in-between."

Sam muttered something under her breath causing Lynne to call out, "Let's not talk about your dirty laundry…"

* * *

By the time they'd driven to the arena and been ushered into the VIP skybox, the sun had begun to set. Sam was grateful that they had been given the opportunity to drive behind the kids, because she was getting a headache just from what movement she could make out from the tinted windows. As all twenty-four teenagers, including Lynne and Fi were ushered to their seats, Sam and Danny hung back in the private lobby that led to the skybox. Sam looked through the large glass windows and over the heads of the ones she was co-chaperoning to see the hundreds of thousands of people packing themselves into the stadium. What had she gotten herself into? It seemed as though she would never cease asking that of herself. Danny seemed to be thinking the same thing…or so she initially thought.

He had that look on his face again…

She followed his gaze to see him staring down the blonde boy from before, who was laughing at something with her sister. Sam smirked and said, "Easy tiger. Are you this bad with Jazz?"

Danny turned to her, softening his gaze. "Worse. And they're teenage boys." He said, as if that explained everything. It probably should have.

"Alright relax, officer. It turns out that Lynne has a boyfriend. He's apparently meeting us all here tonight." Sam said, taking a water bottle that was offered to her by a blue uniformed usher. After he left, it was only the two of them.

This barely seemed to put Danny at ease, but he didn't seem as on edge as moments before. "Well, at least that's two of you."

Sam raised an eyebrow and then laughed. "Two? As in you think those…those…man-children like me?"

Danny was not as amused. "As in I know those 'man-children' like you. I don't trust them. The girl to guy ratio here should be illegal."

"Okay, so the blonde one is a little flirty. But what about that one?" Not wanting to point, she nodded at a bespectacled brunette boy who seemed to be standing furthest away from the girls. "What about him? He seems shy…and innocent. Shy and innocent."

"Innocent." Danny practically scoffed. "That's because you didn't see him looking at you like he was hungry when you went back up the stairs."

"'Like he was hungry'." Sam repeated. This was an incredibly interesting conversation to be having with him. Was he jealous?

"Yes." Danny said, quite sure of himself. He seemed far too consumed with what he was doing to realize how he was acting.

Sam's mind backtracked to earlier that day when she was convinced that he'd found her repulsive. Maybe she had read into things too much. There was a possibility that he'd just felt embarrassed…or that he hadn't even noticed at all. Was it possible that her sister's spastic tendencies were rubbing off on her?...God, she hoped not.

"Aw, you're being husbandly." Sam decided to tease.

Danny nodded. "Damn straight," he turned toward the mass of teenagers not too far away. "I've got your virtue to defend and such."

Lynne escaped the mass of her friends and made her way to the pair of them. Sam was laughing under her breath at something Danny said, but she couldn't be bothered to ask what was so funny. The distressed expression she wore caused the two of them to stop and stare at her.

"What's wrong, birthday girl?" Danny asked easily. The petite redhead shrugged and crossed her arms.

She stepped forward and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. Her amethyst eyes stared into her sister's until Sam looked at her inquisitively. "He's running late."

Sam sighed and followed her sister's lead by stepping forward. "Boys run late. If he said he was coming, and you trust him then you shouldn't worry so much. Boys run late." She repeated.

"Hey, I'm punctual." Danny argued.

"Usually, and it's probably only because people move out of the way of Monster." Sam teased, never looking away from Lynne. Lynne looked ready to say something until the music started and she whipped her head over to see her friends cheering excitedly. Any trace of negative emotion was swept from her face as she turned back to Sam.

"Now go. You dragged us here to see 'Parade Float', so go enjoy it." Sam remarked, waving her away.

"'Mayday Parade'." Lynne corrected, affronted. Sam waved her off again as if to say 'whatever'.

She turned back to Danny who was looking interestedly at the band making their way on the stage. The melody of the song was good enough, Sam decided.

"They have a new self-titled CD out, you know." Danny informed her.

Sam looked at him in bemusement. "Really?" Danny nodded and told her that he looked them up on Google after Lynne ambushed him earlier.

Sam laughed, maybe a little harder than was necessary. She always had such a great time with Danny, which was saying something considering the predicaments they often found themselves in. Of course it went without saying that said predicaments were caused by the major predicament they'd initially found themselves in. If it had to happen, which Sam couldn't even believe she was even considering, she couldn't imagine it happening without Danny. Being with Danny felt like being in the movies…where you're not even halfway through and you're fully aware that anything and everything could take a turn for the worst, but you're far too busy enjoying where you are to care. She was fully aware that anything and everything could go wrong.

Adam could step back in at any time, or Danny could change his mind. She could change her mind…but then again, you can't change your mind about something you'd never decided on in the first place. Being with Danny made her feel less like a Manson and more like 'Sam'; she felt less like an addition to her parents' legacy and more like the creator of her own. She gave a little laugh in her head. Those 'Mayday Parade' kids knew how to set the tone for some deep thinking.

Glancing back to Danny, who was doing something on his phone as he nodded his head slightly to the music, she continued her thoughts where they'd left off. She felt…at ease with Danny. Because, yes, everything could go wrong…horribly, catastrophically wrong, but just like the movies…they had the moment they were in. Though they could be quite bothersome, she liked the idea that there were things that she didn't remember about her time with Danny. Maybe, if it did all come crashing down, she would be able to escape to a better time through the memories her mind had trapped away in their drunken haze.

She was suddenly grabbed and spun around to face Danny. He'd immediately began leading her and she realized that the band was playing a slower song. "Wh-what?" she asked, stunned.

"Practice." Danny replied simply, spinning her gently and bringing her back to him. "We're getting married soon, you know."

Sam scoffed in amusement. "I had no idea. Practice, huh?" She tried to ignore the random flash that came a short distance away. She knew it was Fi. Danny wouldn't let her pull away though, so she continued being led in their little dance.

"Practice." He affirmed. "You don't seem ready, Manson. Looks like I'm going to have to issue a series of sneak attacks on you."

"'Sneak attacks'? What are you, a wedding ninja?" They shared a laugh and Sam thought about just how often she laughed when in the company of Danny.

"Not quite, but we must prepare for the big day. This isn't our song, but it'll do." He said to her. At her look of confusion and surprise he continued with, "We have a song."

Careful not to step on his feet in distraction, she asked, "We do?"

She hoped this hadn't been something from when they were drunk. She had a horrible feeling that if it was, that it would be 'Kokomo' by the Beach Boys. She didn't know why, but she'd been singing it lately and that seemed like the only plausible reason why.

It was either that or Taylor Swift…who she hadn't been able to stomach on the radio ever since she found out that she got married with her playing in the background. She had nothing against the girl, but she just brought bad memories to the surface…bad, drunken memories.

"If you don't remember, Future Mrs. Fenton, then I'm definitely not going to be the one to remind you." He teased.

The following two and a half hours had gone in the same way, though Sam did notice Lynne looking behind them several times throughout the night. Apparently, Prince Charming was a no-show.

They were gathering the large group in the lobby when Lynne ran up to her. She struggled to hear her over the loud chatter of everyone, and was confused until a cellphone was thrust into her face. She rubbed her cheek where the screen had smacked it.

"He's here! He's here! He was running late, and then he totally got lost, but he's here now…" she sang. Everyone seemed amused but Fi.

"It's about time. Tyler Blake is a blue-haired flake." Lynne swatted her best friend and instructed her to "play nice."

Danny shrugged. "Alright, so we'll meet this kid in," He reached over three or four heads to adjust Lynne's arm so that the screen of her phone was visible to him. "Parking lot C-6. You two can ride with us and we'll meet the limo back at your house, I guess."

Sam tried to refrain from rolling her eyes at her sister's excited squeal.

* * *

Danny pulled into the parking lot and waited for a family with two excited teenage girls to get into their dark blue sedan before he continued. The radio was on, but couldn't drown out Fi's exclamation of, "He's probably not here! Lynne, seriously." He stopped the car after pulling into a spot and turned back toward Lynne.

"We'll wait here." He assured her. She looked as though she needed to be assured.

Sam pulled her phone out of the back of her jeans and began texting Jazz. "Let's see if she survived the night." Danny leaned over to see what she was texting when there was a bright flash from Fi's camera. The rest happened so much faster than any of them could have anticipated.

Danny, who had not been expecting the bright flash from Fi's camera jumped slightly and switched the high beams on. There, not far from the car stood two figures illuminated by the bright light. Sam's eyes instantly fixated on the taller figure's blue dyed hair and the small girl in a bright orange tank top whose mouth he was currently quite interested in.

Danny shared her shocked expression as she muttered, "Please don't let that be the blue-haired flake, please don't let that be the blue-haired flake…" repeatedly.

The entire car was still as Danny turned to see Lynne, tears silently streaming down her face. "Judging by your sister's expression—" Danny murmured. Sam was out of the car before he could finish.

"Whoa, Sam. Sam. What are you doing?" Danny asked through the open window.

Sam didn't turn around as she answered, "To go be an older sister."

As incredibly annoying and irritating as her sister could be, she was still her sister. If there was one thing she was going to prove if she proved nothing else in her lifetime, it would be that you _didn't mess with her family_.

Before Tyler or the girl who she'd instantly recognized as Shana Winford could react to their newly discovered audience, Sam's hand had made its way to Tyler's head and her fingers were tightly gripped around several strands of his hair. He looked beyond terrified as Sam yanked him backward before pushing his face near the front of the car. He squinted and attempted to turn his head away from the bright light, but found that he couldn't due to Sam's firm clench. He let out a loud yell and a call for help before Sam quieted him.

"Shut up." She snapped, pulling backward again. He let out a sound of pain, satisfying her. In the car, the three of them sat, stunned. Lynne sniffled as Fi held her.

"Who the hell are you?" Tyler hollered. Sam rolled her eyes.

"I…am Samantha Manson." She could feel the boy's body stiffen and she gave a slight yank. "Yeah, 'Manson'. As in, the older sister of Lynne, who is in that car...right there. Ordinarily, I'd ask how you and your little tramp over there are doing, but I really don't care because you are** not** good enough for my sister. Now, if I ever see you anywhere near Lynne, if you call her, you text her, you communicate with her in any way, shape, or form I will rip out every strand of your freaky little dye job, you got it?"

Tyler had begun to cry so Sam shook her hand free of his hair. Immediately, he took off after Shana who had disappeared long before. Danny turned the high beams off and Lynne bolted from the car and into Sam's arms. She sobbed loudly and angrily as Sam held her tightly.

"He's stupid!" She sobbed miserably. "He's a stupid jerk!"

"I know, kiddo. I know." Sam agreed, patting her disheveled red locks.

After about another fifteen minutes, Lynne's sobs died down into smaller sniffles. Sam knew both of their shirts were probably tear and mascara stained, but she couldn't have imagined how much her heart could hurt for her baby sister.

"Sam?" Lynne finally asked. Sam looked down to see her sister's tear-streaked face. "Is it okay that it hurts?"

Sam was silent for a moment before she nodded. "Yeah, Lynne, it's okay. We Manson girls fall hard." She heard the driver's door close as Danny came toward them and quietly asked if Lynne was okay.

Sam nodded over her shoulder. "We fall so hard."

Lynne was virtually silent in the backseat on the way back home. Danny had purposely taken the longest way he knew how, and Sam had called ahead to tell her father to serve cake without Lynne. Her father had been hesitant, but relented, knowing that Sam obviously knew something that he did not. When they pulled into the winding driveway for what felt like the hundredth time that day, Sam finally got a reply message from Jazz. She blinked and read it again. She closed her eyes and re-read it when she opened them again.

'_You've got to be kidding me…today cannot be this much of a nightmare…_' she thought desperately.

She kept her cool up until they'd made it in the house. She ran as fast as she could to the upstairs bathroom, pretending she didn't hear anyone asking her where she was going.

"Maybe she had to pee." Fi suggested.

She made it into the bathroom and locked it. Glancing around the room, she shut the window and turned on the shower. She sat perched upon the closed toilet lid with panic written all over her face. She dialed the familiar number and waited to hear her voice.

"You _slept_ with Tucker?"

* * *

Okay, guys! I know...they get one thing figured out and here comes another. Alright, be sure to tell me what you think! Your reviews and opinions do help more than you know.


	14. The Murder of Jeremy Manson

Haha, I got a few messages asking me when the next chapter was coming up and I told everyone March. I probably should have mentioned it would be the last day of March, huh? I'm so sorry I've been away for so long. I had a few personal things to deal with and a health issue, but I'm back and I'm better and I love you guys! To show you how much I love you, I've given you all two things that you've been begging me for! And, I am officially announcing that Chapter Fifteen…is the wedding chapter.

Love you guys so much, enjoy!

* * *

_Ring. Ring._

_Ring._

_"Hey, it's—"_

Beep.

She was going to try again. She was going to keep trying until she finally got through. Usually it wouldn't have been a big deal that he wasn't picking up, but she knew where he'd been that morning. It was her own fault. She should not have let him walk into the war zone alone. Lynne was obviously no help since she'd already made it very clear that it was 'every man for himself'. Perhaps she'd killed him…stabbed him with his own lapel. She could have had someone cut the brakes on Monster…or chloroformed him and had him shipped to Cambodia. Damn, it was probably Cambodia.

"Now, as I was saying, it is quite possible that the issue with your mother is not so much as 'one' issue, but several overlapping one another. It would seem that…"

_Ring. Ring._

"…because it is evident that your mother cares for you, you've said so yourself in our last session. So do you think that it is possible that your mother is just transferring…"

_Ring. "Hey—" _

Okay, so maybe not Cambodia, and maybe brake cutting wasn't exactly in her mother's tastes, but something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong and it left her distracted. Horribly, horribly distracted…

Beep.

"…I'm sorry, Samantha. Are you listening?" Sam looked up from her iPhone, to see Dr. Young taking her red rimmed glasses off and sitting them on her desk beside her now clasped hands. Her gaze was curious and concerned. The good doctor was_ always _concerned.

"Yes! Yes, you were saying that my mother has issues." At the slighted look on the woman's face, Sam recanted. "I'm sorry, Dr. Young. I'm just…I've been trying to reach Danny and he isn't answering."

The woman smiled and brought her still clasped hands to her chin, tapping her mouth steadily. "Yes…while we're on the subject of Danny and yourself I—"

The sound of three quick beeps from the desk clock on Dr. Young's desk prompted a disappointed frown on the woman's face. "Well, that looks like all of our time for today. Next time, no phones?" Her forehead creased as she gave a small smile to Sam.

Sam stood up and nodded. "Yes, of course."

The doctor stood also and shook Sam's hand. "See? This hasn't been so bad, has it? Only a bit longer and we're all through here." Sam couldn't help the look of relief that crossed her features. As pleasant as Dr. Young had turned out to be, there were still a lot of other things that she'd rather do than sit there and discuss her sham relationship with a stranger.

Sam attempted to reach Danny again to no avail, and distractedly found herself getting into her car and heading back toward the freeway. Her phone beeped and she stole a glance at the screen to see that it was not the Fenton that she had been hoping for, but the Fenton that she had been avoiding. She switched her phone off when she saw Jazz's message, which wasn't much different than the other fourteen she'd received in the two days since the unspeakable incident.

Instead of speeding into the driveway of her childhood home haphazardly as she usually did, Sam slowly pulled in. She was glad that she had when she suddenly had to slam on the brakes. Getting out of the car, Sam looked incredulously at the large gray mass that she'd nearly run over. It wasn't until she noticed a strand of hair that was familiar and utterly distinguishable that she cried out, "Lynne?"

She pulled back the gray fabric to reveal the rambunctious little redhead, cloaked in yet another piece of gray. "What _are you doing_?" Lynne shrugged and rose to her feet. Her hair was pulled back tautly and she was dressed in gray and black camouflage army fatigues and black combat boots. Before Lynne could bother to answer Sam with something besides the fact that she had been waiting for her, Consuela ran out with a plastic yellow bowl of something.

"Here is more camouflage for your face, Miss Lynne." The maid tutted, smearing the matching gray mixture onto Lynne's face. Sam blinked several times before she found herself capable of forming any kind of sound.

"I…what…I…why do you encourage her?" Sam sputtered. Consuela gave a small, sleuth-like smile before hurrying back toward the side entrance of the house. "Lynne," Sam demanded. "What are you doing?"

Instead of simply answering, Lynne pulled Sam to the other side of her car and forced her to squat down toward the ground. "The better question, what are you doing? Out in the open like that, just waiting to get picked off. _This is a battlefield, Samantha_."

Sam had no time for this. This was not the type of activity she'd had in mind when she'd worn four inch heels.

"I almost ran you over, crazy! Now what is going on? Where is Danny?" Sam asked, pulling Lynne up off the ground. Lynne looked her in the eye solemnly and gave a deep sigh. She turned her older sister toward the house where Sam could see people moving around hectically and could just make out the faint sound of yelling. "_What is this_?"

"_This_ is Pamela Manson's wedding planning extravaganza. This is real, okay? There have been casualties. I'm not just talking about crying ladies in expensive business-wear, alright? I'm talking _casualties_. People have been taken. She got Danny. Dad could be dead." Lynne answered gravely.

"Dad is not dead." Sam rolled her eyes, opening her passenger side door to retrieve her phone.

"Dad is dead." Lynne affirmed.

"—Wait what do you mean she 'got Danny'?" Sam faltered.

"She got him. One minute he was here to drop something off and the next…BLAM! Ab-duct-ed." Lynne took the time to smooth her camouflage, fully aware of the look she was receiving from her sibling.

"Is this about that blue scalped monkey? Because so help me, Lynne there are better ways to deal with this. Why can't you just listen to Adele and cry in the bathtub like normal people?" Sam asked as Lynne urged her toward the entry that Consuela had just gone through.

Once they'd made it into the kitchen, Lynne pulled her behind a large plant that Sam could have sworn was not there the last time she'd been in the kitchen. "As fun as it is playing Charlie's Angels with you, I have to find Danny and get the heck out of this house."

"_There is no escape_." Lynne hissed dramatically.

Sam ignored her and made her way toward the entryway to the house. She turned the doorknob, hoping to have a means of escape besides the one that her sister was currently lurking in. She was surprised to find the door locked for once. It never ceased to baffle Sam that the door was always unlocked. Her mother was more concerned about the maids stealing silverware than she was about complete strangers having the ability to waltz right into her home.

Immediately, the door to the den swung open and she found herself almost being trampled by at least ten well-dressed strangers, rushing past her. One girl, who was frantically sweeping her finger on her iPad was obviously in tears. Lynne's warning seemed a little less ridiculous suddenly. Two more people rushed by her in the opposite direction, forcing Sam to move toward the front door to avoid being knocked over. The flurry of people ceased eventually and she heard her mother's voice angrily pronounce someone to be a product of failure. She turned away from the door, debating what her next move would be when she saw four people slowly marching toward her mother's voice. The whole thing reminded her of a less than pleasant version of 'The Wizard of Oz'.

She imagined the four people to the right of her going, "No, ma'am. There's been some kind of mistake. We're actually here to give _you_ a heart."

Just as she was about to put as much distance between the Mansion home and herself as possible, she saw a face that she was quite relieved to see, coming down the stairs. "Danny!"

He wore a plain black t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans. His blue eyes looked tired as he came toward her.

He surprised her by looking over his shoulder toward the den and shushing her. "We have got to get out of here."

'_Great,' _Sam thought. _'The crazy is spreading.'_

"Danny, come on. Whatever she's planning can't be that ba—"

"I just spent four and a half hours getting fitted into a suit that cost more than my first down payment on Betsy." Danny interrupted. Sam immediately blanched and turned toward the door frantically.

"Where is your phone?" She hissed, struggling to unlock the difficult front door. She was now beginning to understand why it was better left open.

"Your mother confiscated it. She thought I would tip you off." Danny muttered, looking over his shoulder again.

"Would you have?" Sam asked, finally getting the first lock done.

"Obviously. Watch out." Sam moved aside so that Danny could try his hand at the second lock.

"There you are!" The voice of evil, formally known as Pamela Manson remarked. "She's finally arrived! Charlotte, alert Ronan!"

Sam turned to her right to see Lynne being dragged in by two of the well-dressed people from before. "We found your youngest!" One of them chirped. The other was less pleased as she called out, "She bit me!"

"Up the stairs with you both. Daniel, Winona has only fitted the jacket and pants. There is still the vest…oh and the backup suit. Every groom needs a backup suit. Jeremy had two, you know." She remarked off-handedly to a brunette girl with too much makeup on.

Lynne and Sam barely had time to protest as they were marched up the stairs by Pamela's army in Armani.

"Dad is definitely dead." Lynne proclaimed. "Dead. Dead. Dead."

"Somehow," Sam sighed. "I know this is your fault and I blame you."

* * *

Danny could not shake the distinct feeling of being on a wedding planning edition of _'Survivor'_. It was already three o'clock and he could barely remember what had occurred since he'd come over at seven that morning. He was just supposed to be dropping off measurements. He shook the feeling of unease that he'd had for the last few hours and headed up the stairs toward the faint commotion he could hear. He sincerely wanted nothing more than to just leave. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was pretty sure that Winona had tried to feel him up at least twice.

He finally reached the door where the faint sound of voices was coming from and knocked timidly. Sam was most likely behind the door and it had been about an hour or so since he'd seen her downstairs. He supposed that she had to be at least half done. Sam wasn't a high maintenance kind of girl and he found that he liked that about her.

He heard Lynne whimsically say, "Come in…"

Danny opened the door only to be blinded by various shades of white...everywhere.

He walked in to see Sam standing in what looked to be a giant cupcake. It was the brightest shade of white he'd ever seen. It could have easily been compared to the feeling your eyes got when you stared at snow for too long. It looked like one of those Disney princess dresses he'd seen on TV.

He'd tried not to laugh…really, he had, but the slightest chuckle escaped his lips. Sam turned the fiery look of hate she'd been reserving for her mother toward him. He did his best to look away, but he could still feel her staring him down. That was something she'd gotten from her mother…that look.

"Samantha, will you stop being so _difficult_. Henri handpicked this!" Pamela sighed in exasperation. She was clutching the stem of a wine glass filled with chardonnay.

Pamela and who Danny could only guess to be Henri, looked beyond tired. From the look of the many wedding dresses, all of them decked out in frills, bows, lace and the like, they'd been at this for a while. Sam's childhood bedroom had been transformed into _Wedding Dress_ _Heaven_…or in her case, _**Hell**_.

"_Difficult_?" Sam cried. "_I match the freaking wedding cake!"_

"All twelve tiers of it." Lynne added, much to Sam's extreme displeasure.

Danny's interest was caught again. "We have a twelve tier wedding cake?" he questioned Sam. It was Pamela who answered though.

"_Language_, Samantha. And yes, yes. What else do you expect to feed over a thousand guests with?" She ignored Danny's incredulous look and Sam's irritated one.

"Now, it is a twelve tier vanilla chiffon cake with a Bavarian Chocolate filling, light ganache frosting on the outside for the accent, and of course there will be little figurines of yourselves at the top. Your faces will be identical. You'd be surprised with what they can do with a picture these days…"

"And this cake…it looks like you?" Danny asked, earning another death glare from Sam who curtly nodded.

Sam frowned down at the monstrosity that she was currently adorning. There were ruffles and frills everywhere and a skirt the size of Texas. She couldn't even see her feet! Not only that but the fabric (one that not even she and her ivy league education would even dare try to pronounce) was incredibly itchy. She dared not scratch under the watchful eye of her mother, though.

Back to the case at hand…

"I will NOT wear this pastry chef's excuse for a dress." Sam announced, with a hint of finality in her voice. Henri looked ready to cry.

"Samantha, please be reasonable!" he begged.

"Call me 'Samantha' again, and I will **shank** you." Sam threatened, her hand inching toward one of the many heels on the floor.

Lynne and Danny's eyes both widened in fear and Henri let out a loud curse in French before hastily leaving out of the bedroom, most likely to retrieve another dress choice. Sam took this opportunity to retreat to the conjoined bathroom.

"I'm being unreasonable? Ha. He's trying to make me look like the damn Pillsbury doughboy, but _I'm_ being unreasonable." She muttered angrily as she hitched up the dress to get footing on the floor. Finally, she found a way to awkwardly walk to the bathroom without falling flat on her face.

Henri came back in with a dress bag and an angry scowl on his face and muttering something furiously in his native tongue.

"Uhm…Henri says that Sam's stupid and that if she stabs him, he's going to poison her dress." Lynne whispered, obviously having taken French at some point.

Danny's eyebrow lifted. He'd have to keep a closer eye on Henri…and perhaps on Sam.

Pamela took the dress from Henri and brought it to Sam who said something that could have been a profanity. Danny winced. He'd never seen this side of Sam before. Lynne saw this and nudged him.

"You're just lucky she actually likes you. The wedding preparations with Adam? Not fun. She pushed a plastic mock wedding cake on him at one point." Lynne informed him. "And that one was _fifteen_ tiers."

Danny seemed troubled until he reminded himself that Adam had to have done something to deserve it. He was removed from his thoughts as said cake pusher came out of the bathroom looking…amazing.

"Sam…" Danny breathed.

"How bad is it?" Sam wondered aloud.

"Darling, you look wonderful!" Pamela exclaimed.

Sam gave her a disbelieving look. "That's what you said about the last twenty-four." She stepped over a dress on the floor and remarked, "Twenty-five."

"No, really. This one…doesn't make you look like the Sugarplum Fairy on crack." Lynne explained.

Sam turned to Danny who shrugged with a grin. "Uh…yeah. What she said."

Sam then took the time to look in the long hanging mirror in her room. She stared at her reflection, slowly turning and examining the dress. It wasn't by far the worst thing she'd tried on. Dare she say, it might have been the best…

Okay, it was. It was the best dress she'd tried on that day…maybe ever. "What's it called?" she wondered, only half caring.

"The Tornado." Henri told her in his thick accent.

"Why, because Sam's been rampaging around like one?" Lynne muttered to Danny, who snickered softly.

"It's by Manuel Mota. Do you like it, Samantha?" Pamela asked carefully. "Perhaps love it?"

Sam evaluated the dress for a few moments more before turning to Danny. He looked at her and gave her a positive look. She then turned to her mother and Henri. "It's doable."

"Oh, thank heavens!"

"About time…"

"Remerciez Dieu!"

Danny smiled to himself. The day was finally over. He'd be able to hop in Betsy, go back home to the apartment and sleep...forever. Now that it was all said and done, perhaps it hadn't been as bad as he'd made it out to be. He never envisioned himself getting married, especially not in a ceremony as grand and elaborate as this was obviously going to be. But as for how things had turned out, he accepted that it wasn't so bad. The worst was over and there was nothing else to worry about.

"Now for the bridesmaids dresses!" Pamela announced, clapping her hands together excitedly and causing both Lynne and Sam to scowl.

Danny could have shot himself right then and there.

* * *

After the dressing of the bridesmaids and the flower girl (none of whom Sam had ever met before) Danny, Sam, and Lynne crept downstairs carefully.

"Is this legal?" Lynne whispered. "Can she legally hold us here?"

Sam led the other two into a side hallway outside of her father's office. "You live here, Lynne. And you're a minor…her minor. So legally, yes, she can hold you here. Us on the other hand…"

Danny sighed, "I hate to break up the fun here, but I've been holding it since this morning."

The three of them stayed silent as the brunette from before hurried by, oblivious to their location. "I'll take you to the bathroom near the kitchen. Come on."

As Lynne led Danny to the kitchen, Sam decided to check on her father. Though she was absolutely certain that he hadn't been killed off, it was still worth checking to see how he'd faired through the chaos. As she neared the door, she stopped to hear her father in the midst of an angry conversation.

"You have done enough to this family, do you understand me? Now you stay away. There is nothing in this home for you."

Sam couldn't help but press her ear to the door. The hand that was not clutching her phone was pressed delicately against the wooden frame. Whomever her father was arguing with had cut him off and it sounded as if her father were listening.

"The Manson Corporation owes Normandy nothing else. And—"

"What are you doing?" Danny's voice startled her and caused her to gingerly move away from the door. "...You didn't actually think that Lynne was…"

She wasn't sure how long she'd been listening in, but it had been long enough for them to make it to the kitchen and back.

"No," Sam laughed. She turned to Lynne who appeared beside Danny and quietly remarked, "Not deceased."

Lynne only shrugged. "So what's the escape plan?" At the look she received from them both she rolled her eyes. "Not for me, for you two. Sam's right. I'm bound to these walls. You two, however, are free to leave. I've decided to sacrifice myself for the cause. Aren't you lucky?"

Danny looked amused as Sam argued, "There's no place for us to go that Mother Manson doesn't know about."

Danny looked thoughtful for a moment before replying, "What about Jazz's place?"

Lynne and Danny both gave a startled jump as Sam loudly snapped, "NO." The three of them immediately surveyed their surroundings and were grateful to find that neither Jeremy nor anyone else had seemed to notice Sam's outburst. Sam looked away, not offering any explanation.

"She's right." Lynne decided. "If there's any place you two have ever been, she'll know about it. So Sam's apartment, your apartment, and any other place you guys usually go is totally off-limits."

Danny took out his phone, which he'd somehow retrieved, and Sam noticed that he was texting Tucker. She immediately found an interest in the floor. "There has to be some place. It's not like she's got a GPS chip in your head."

Sam subconsciously felt the nape of her neck before she noticed what she was doing. There was a brief moment of silent thought that was soon interrupted by an unfamiliar voice calling Sam's name.

"Well figure it out soon before we get our eyebrows hairsprayed again!" Lynne and Sam both winced at the memory that Danny was glad not to have been a part of. Suddenly, Danny's head snapped up.

"There's one place you haven't been." Danny grinned.

The sound of footsteps rushing into the den was ignored for the time being. They could make out the distant sound of high heels clacking down the stairs.

"Where?" The two Mansons asked in unison.

The grin on Danny's face grew as he replied, "Home."

As Sam sat, buckled into the passenger seat of Monster, she couldn't shake the fluttering in her stomach. She wasn't sure whether it was because of the adorable grin on Danny's face as he pulled out of the driveway to take her to a place that she'd never been before, or because he called the place that she'd never been before 'home'. It was their home. It was exciting and unnerving all at once. Of course she'd had a home before. At one point in time the colossal mansion they were leaving was her home, and presently she was living in her very own apartment. This was different though. Not just because she would be sharing the place with someone, Danny of all people, but because…well, to be honest, she didn't really know.

The Fenton home felt like 'home', much more than the mansion ever did. With her thoughts back to the mansion, she remembered the phone call she'd overheard before she'd been caught eavesdropping. Her father was a man of infinite patience, which was a gift he must have been given to raise Lynne. She could count the number of times she'd heard him raise his voice on one hand, and it worried her to hear him in what was basically a screaming match. The only Normandy she knew of was Normandy, France. Maybe that's why her father owed money…her mother had drunk them blind in French wine.

"Consuela told me that the young maid, Julianne is expecting her first child." Danny remarked casually.

"Because no one seems to be able to keep it in their pants…" Sam muttered, ignoring another message from Jazz.

About forty minutes later, Sam noticed Monster slowing down. For the first time, Sam paused to look at her surroundings. She was definitely in the suburbs. They passed by a little green and white house with two little girls sitting and whispering to each other, laughing. To the left of them were two adults, chatting amicably near the street. The smaller houses soon morphed into larger houses as they drove down the quiet street. Small front yards turned into sprawling lawns, green and beautiful. Sam was about to ask where they were when Danny pulled into a driveway.

If it were possible, Sam stopped breathing. Danny parked Monster in the long, curved driveway and Sam didn't hesitate to unbuckle and hop out. Her black four inch heels met the paved driveway and a warm breeze surrounded her as she closed the door to the vehicle.

In front of her stood a large two story house. It was white with black shutters and a shingled roof of varying grays. The walkway was long and made up of flat, smooth brown and gray stones that led up to a large black door with glass panels on the side of it. She and Danny made their way up the path, and Sam admired the beautiful garden surrounding the house. It wasn't as grand as the one at the mansion, but it was beautiful nonetheless. They passed a giant tree in the middle of the yard and Sam was led by Danny to the front door, which was adorned with a beautiful polished door knocker.

Danny opened the door with a key and let Sam step inside. He rang the doorbell for effect and Sam listened to the low chime as it reverberated through the house. She took in the front entry way and the large two door closet to the left of her. Her eyes looked over the newly polished walnut flooring, and she turned to Danny, not sure if she knew what to say.

"This is…this is amazing, Danny." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. Danny stood beside her and nodded. "My mom and dad came in and restored all of the flooring and all of this other stuff. My mom mentioned something about new cabinets and handles…I think."

Sam laughed. "Come on, I wanna show you the backyard."

He led her through two large glass sliding doors and onto a patio that matched the pathway from the front. She dully noticed some kind of ghost hunting equipment to the side of a lawn chair set, and found herself amused, yet glad that it was there. She liked having a piece of Jack and Maddie around. Danny noticed her gaze and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure.

"I tried to get my dad to take it, but he refused." Sam laughed again and shook her head, taking a step closer to him.

"Danny…it's perfect. It's…" She was closer to him than she'd anticipated. In her heels, she didn't have to reach up much to be near his face. If she were just a few inches closer she knew she would have been able to feel his breath.

"Home?" Danny filled in, quietly. She wasn't sure who had closed in that inch or two, but they were certainly much closer than a moment before.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "It's h—"

"There you two are!" Danny and Sam turned to see Jazz walking toward them. "Mom couldn't remember whether she left the upstairs light on and you know how she is, so I drove all the way over here to make sure and then I saw Betsy and—…am I interrupting something?"

"No, not at all." Danny stepped away from Sam, leaving her to stand there, wondering what had almost happened.

She followed the two siblings back into the house, barely noticing anything that Jazz was pointing out to her about the place. They'd walked into the kitchen when Danny's phone rang and he had to excuse himself.

Jazz turned to Sam. "What…was that?"

Sam hopped off of the counter she'd just been sitting on and busied herself by looking through pantries. "What was what?"

"That…just now…outside. If I didn't know any better I'd think you and my brother were about to—"

Sam closed the pantry she'd just opened and turned to the redhead. "Speaking of people doing things…" she remarked pointedly.

Jazz peeked out of the doorway, and after hearing that her brother was still on the phone, hissed, "It was a one-time…mistake. Which you would know if you answered the phone!"

"Yeah, well I was not taking that chance. I don't like this! I don't like hiding things from Danny!" Sam hissed back, her hand on the knob to a cabinet.

"Hiding what from me?" Danny asked, startling Sam.

She pulled on the cabinet and was knocked to the floor by a burst of cardboard boxes. From the boxes rose a floating box shaped apparition.

Shocked, Sam backed away and Danny moved himself so that she was behind him. "I AM THE BOX GHOST!" the apparition bellowed.

From seemingly out of nowhere, Jazz tossed a lunch thermos to Danny who uncapped it. From the thermos came a bright blue light that sucked the floating box man into the little cylindrical prison. Stunned, Sam stuttered, "Who…what was that?"

"Box Ghost." Jazz and Danny answered simultaneously.

"Completely harmless," Jazz assured her. "Really annoying, but completely harmless."

"That was…whoa. And he was just…in there. Can you imagine living with a ghost the whole time and having no idea?" Sam laughed a little at the idea of it.

"No," Danny said, moving away from her. He handed the thermos to Jazz and gave her a look. "Couldn't imagine it."

Jazz took the thermos and sighed. "Well, I should go put this in the portal. I'll tell Mom and Dad that you said hello. Bye Sam, later kiddo." She hugged Sam and touched Danny's shoulder lightly before she left just as quickly as she'd arrived.

Sam started to speak when Danny spoke first. "We should get going too. My parents will be really excited that you like the place." He didn't make eye contact as he led the way out of the kitchen. The only sound Sam could hear was Danny on his phone and the sound of her own shoes as she followed behind him.

The car ride was just as silent, and not as comfortable as their usual silences. Sam wondered if she said something wrong. Maybe she'd offended Danny and Jazz with her remark about living with ghosts. Oh, of course she had. Obviously! Their parents were ghost hunters with ghost equipment and portals. Of course they'd lived with ghosts before. Now that she'd realized what she said, she went to apologize. She didn't get a chance though because Danny had begun laughing.

She turned to him to see that he was looking at a mother, dressed much like her own, busily chatting away on her cellphone. The poor woman was completely unaware that the small child, whose hand she was holding, was currently drawing on her shiny silver BMW with a dark blue Sharpie.

Sam laughed too as Danny remarked, "I can't wait to meet our neighbors." His familiar grin was back and the air of discomfort was lifted. Whatever had happened was over and forgotten. Sam flashed a smile at him and let her mind wander as she looked out of the passenger window.

As confusing as things were, and as much as there was going on, she knew everything would be okay.

She just had to get married first.


	15. Keep Your Money, I Want Change

I decided that talk is cheap and to show you all just how much I love and appreciate everyone who reads and especially takes the time to review and share insight. It really means so much to me that you guys do what you do, and look! We're over 400 reviews! Thanks so much to all of my faithful readers and reviewers. Your feedback is really what gets me going and inspires me to get these chapters out faster. So now, no more talking from me, here's the chapter I promised!

* * *

Samantha Elizabeth Manson was not a fan of bachelorette parties. This being her second one, she felt that it was not out of line to make a statement as such. Jazz however, did not agree with her logic. Nestled in a crowd of women that she'd never met before, with drinks in their hands, Sam blew a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"You had one bachelorette party," Her soon to be sister-in-law reminded her. "It hardly makes you an expert."

Sam gave a polite smile to the woman who gave a hurried congratulation, before she turned to her left for the photographer who needed a picture of Sam and Jazz. At Jazz's flustered look, she shrugged.

"Two, counting this one. And had it not been for the last one, I wouldn't even be having this one. Therefore, bachelorette parties suck. Is it seven yet?" Sam turned to get a view of the grandfather clock behind Jazz. Not even close.

Her mother, not being one to make the same mistake again, insisted that her eldest daughter's bachelorette party be held in the mansion. Sam hadn't even wanted a stupid bachelorette party…if this affair could even be called a _party_. It was just a bunch of fancy people with money, drinking fancy liquors that cost money, at the home of her parents…who had no money. Sam hoped they'd all be too drunk to notice her absence when she would be allowed to retreat upstairs at seven o'clock sharp. After all, the bride needed beauty sleep, alleged Queen Pamela.

Sam would be halfway up the stairs by six-fifty nine and fifty-nine seconds. Though Pamela hadn't really wanted to, she knew that it helped her cause to allow Jazz to spend the night.

"This one doesn't count until it's over." Jazz smirked, leading Sam away from a group of chortling women and toward the foyer. She nodded toward the doorway. "They seem to be making the best of it."

Sam's gaze trailed to the doorway of the foyer to see Lynne and Paulina, who were both sitting dejectedly on the floor—Lynne because there were other places she'd kill to be, and Paulina because her new politician boyfriend's wife was in attendance. The two held hands of cards, looking bored.

"You got any twos?" Paulina drawled.

"I told you, we're playing Blackjack!" Lynne snapped.

Sam rolled her eyes as she and Jazz joined the other two, sitting above them on the plush loveseat. "You know things are bad when these two turn to each other for company."

Paulina stood to her feet haughtily and brushed herself off. She flattened an imaginary imperfection on her head, smoothing her long brown hair. She examined a honey colored highlight critically, before finally turning her attention to the other two women in the room. "I'd rather be in here than out there with that harpy!" she trilled.

"You're sleeping with her husband, Paulina." Sam deadpanned, causing Paulina to roll her eyes.

"Oh, they've been separated for as long as I can remember!" Paulina snipped, forcing her way onto the loveseat in between Sam and Jazz.

Not missing a beat, Lynne announced, "That's what they say about your legs."

Jazz looked away and coughed awkwardly as Sam pursed her lips together to stop whatever sound was ready to come out. Paulina glared at Lynne for a few moments, possibly contemplating murder. Most likely realizing that prison terrified her, she turned her scorned glare to the other Manson sister.

"Oh, get off your high horse! You slept with Danny while you were engaged to Adam! You're only so high and mighty about the institution of marriage because you're getting married tomorrow."

Jazz whipped her head toward Sam. "You slept with my brother? You and Danny—…wait. Wasn't he still technically with Valerie that night?"

"Even better!" Paulina cut in at the same time as Lynne's proclamation of, "Magic indeed!" Paulina walked over to the small wet bar in the corner of the den, throwing Sam a haughty sneer.

Sam rolled her eyes and turned to them respectively. "Nothing. Happened. Do I need to spell it? N-O-T-H-I-N—"

Jazz held up her hand quickly to cut her off. "No need. Masters at Harvard, PhD at Stanford, thanks. And fine, nothing's happened with you and Danny…_yet._ You are getting married tomorrow, you realize."

"Hence the reason why I'm trapped in bachelorette hell. I don't know which one was worse." Sam directed at Paulina. "And get away from that bar. If anyone needs to be drunk right now, it'd be me. I already dislike you, don't make me hate you more."

Jazz cleared her throat and joined Lynne in looking at Sam expectantly. "Being married isn't going to change anything." The older Manson answered. "The whole reason our plan for annulment works is because the marriage is never going to be made official." Sam carefully shut the door as to avoid any listeners lingering around.

"Like a sham marriage?" Paulina asked, ignoring Sam. She swirled her drink and sipped as the ice clinked against the glass. "So you're getting fake married again? You're getting fake remarried?"

Before Sam could interject, Lynne decided to put her two cents in. "Hey question, does that make this one real? Do two fake marriages equal a real one?"

Sam looked at the clock again. Close…but not close enough. She wondered briefly if Danny was having a better time. Both her father and his had gone out with Danny and Tucker while she was trapped within the walls of the mansion. With such a different meld of personalities Sam wondered where the four of them had ended up. She was fine with anywhere but Club Baja or the Antheneum.

"No, no, the marriage is going to be real. When they both get up there tomorrow, they are definitely going to be married. It just won't be official. They aren't consummating the marriage. Then, when their year is up they annul the marriage and everybody walks away happy."

Sam nodded and Paulina snorted into her drink. Sam turned to her and prompted the scantily clad woman to speak up. "Oh please. We'll see how that works out."

When no one seemed to agree with her, Paulina seemed to get agitated.

"You mean to tell me that you think you're going to live in a house with a man—with that man—and that sparks aren't going to fly? You are going to be alone with him…quite often. Most, if not all, of the work you do for your father's environmental program is done from home, meaning that you'll be secluded…all alone…with him. Summer's coming. Whatcha gonna do when he's shirtless, Manson?...Or whatever your last name is now."

Jazz pursed her lips in thought. "I hate to say it…but you two did have that little moment in the backyard the other day."

Sam glowered at her. Since that day Jazz had been leaning on the suggestion that something had almost occurred between the two of them during her first view of the house. Sam was adamant that Jazz was just trying to make herself feel less guilty for the sins she committed with her brother's best friend, and each time she'd brought it up, she'd promptly told her so.

"You have to kiss him for the first time tomorrow!" Lynne squealed. "Oh…what if it's horrible? What if you kiss him and it's so bad that everyone can tell how bad it is and your whole marriage looks like the sham that it is?"

"Lynne!" Sam cried. "It is not going to be 'horrible'. I'm sure if it were horrible enough to ruin a marriage, _unofficial or not_, I would remember from the other times." As soon as she'd said it, she'd wished that she hadn't.

"_You've _kissed_ Danny before?_" Jazz hissed. "_You've kissed my brother before and you're giving me a hard time about…__**you know what**_?"

"It's not exactly a secret, you know." Lynne remarked. "I'm the one who finally got her out of the bathroom that night."

Ignoring Lynne as usual, Sam rolled her eyes at Jazz. "We got married before in a drunk ceremony with a fake Taylor Swift and glitter, Jazz! Of course I've kissed him before. Not sober, but yes, I've kissed him before. Drunken kisses don't count. If the things I did while inebriated counted, then I wouldn't be here right now!"

"So you're saying," Paulina drawled. "That you have no attraction to Danny whatsoever. That this sham marriage _for a year_ is going to be cake and ice cream because there is absolutely no chance that anything will happen to ruin your mother's carefully calculated plan."

Sam nodded. "He's my friend. This is a partnership. For all I know, he could go back to Valerie."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Danny very well could go back to Valerie. She had no way of knowing how he felt about her…or how he didn't. He'd already said that he had been speaking to her. For all she knew, there could have been a reconciliation in the works. Valerie was pretty…and crazy as hell, but she was still pretty and was probably a very lovely person when people weren't drunkenly marrying her boyfriend. And okay, so maybe she was a little attracted to Danny.

But really, who wasn't she attracted to…not including Adam. Ryan Reynolds, Freddie Prinze Jr., the guy who played Robin in that Batman movie, there was attraction all over the place! So maybe she was attracted to Danny a little. It wasn't enough for anything to happen. She saw attractive people all the time. It didn't mean that she was going to go _consummating_ with them.

'_You're not marrying all of those other "attractive people".' _She pushed the thought to the furthest depths of her mind and turned to the other three.

"Fine." Jazz relented. "It's thirty-six seconds to seven."

Sam hurried toward the door without looking back at any of them. She was going to go to bed and pray for sleep before the major battle ahead of her. She smiled graciously but kept her hasty pace up the stairs as she was recognized as the bride-to-be. She paused a mere moment for another photo before taking the steps two at a time. She didn't stop until she was in the safety of her childhood bedroom. Thankfully all of the wedding mementos, dresses, and anything else matrimony related had been removed from the room.

She didn't know if she could take it. The last time she'd been in here had been for that wretched dress fitting and she'd had horrible nightmares about being suffocated by large white tulle dresses for a week after.

She barely had time to pull her nightclothes on, which consisted of a pair of black and gray shorts and a dark magenta sweatshirt with a hood, before there was a knock on the door. Frustrated and barefoot, Sam whipped the door open with a deep scowl.

"For the last time, no. I am not going to sleep with—Adam." Sam stopped in surprise before immediately standing defensively against the doorway. She crossed her arms and stared at him insolently.

"Well, I'm sure your husband will be pleased about that. Care for a visitor?" Adam asked coolly. His blonde hair was gelled down and he stood in a suit, as usual. He was fixing his cufflinks and staring back at Sam, waiting.

Sam didn't move. Really, who wore cufflinks to a bachelorette party…that he wasn't even invited to. "Didn't realize you were a woman now. That would certainly explain a lot."

Adam gave a rare smile and openly eyed Sam from her legs back up to her eyes. "You always did have a peculiar sense of humor, Samantha. It's nice to see you like this." At Sam's readiness to hurl a disgusted comment, Adam continued, "I mean alone. Without what's-his-face."

"Danny." Sam supplied at once. "But you knew that. What do you want?"

Adam took a step closer and Sam took a step back, grasping onto the doorknob and readying herself to slam it in his face.

"Since you're dying to know why I'm here, I'm picking up my girlfriend, Lyndsey. She's one of your bridesmaids, you know."

Sam obviously didn't know. The thought of the enemy being so close to her the next morning made her feel ill. As if Adam weren't worse enough, she would now have to be stuck with the girl who was stupid enough to let Adam Cain call her his girlfriend. Being called his fiancé for all of those months made her contemplate ending her life once or twice, so this Lyndsey was obviously crazy…like Valerie-crazy.

"That still doesn't explain what you're doing here. And FYI, the only 'dying' I'm doing is inside right now. What do you want and why are you bothering me for it, Adam?"

Adam's smile turned coy as he remarked, "The way you say my name, Samantha. As if you'd like nothing better than to push me down these stairs…it just shows you how much passion there has always been between us. There's fire."

"I'd like to light you on fire." Sam snapped. "I'm going to bed."

Sam went to close the door only to have Adam gently shove it open. "You don't have to go through with this tomorrow. I'd take you back. You're the only thing I've ever lost, Samantha. That does something to me."

Sam's glower grew to an irate glare as she practically snarled at him. "Push my door again Cain, and I'm going to do something to you. And both pigs could fly and Hell freeze over and I still wouldn't have you 'take me back'. Now leave before you lose a lot more than an arranged engagement…like your ability to produce offspring."

She shut the door in his face firmly before turning away toward her bed. Thinking better of it, she turned back around and locked the door. She didn't want any more visitors before the night was over, especially not if it was a Cain type of visitor. She climbed into the bed and shut her eyes after turning off all of the lights. The last thing she could remember thinking before she went to bed was, _'Where's Danny?'_

In what felt like minutes, but in reality had been hours, the sunlight was spilling through the open curtains as Sam slowly opened her eyes. She blinked a few times against the sunlight before she remembered where she was and why she was there. She stared in confusion at Jazz, who was currently sitting up and stretching on the small couch in her room.

"Didn't I lock that door?" Sam asked with a yawn. Jazz nodded.

"Lynne picked it." Of course she did, little felon.

Sam's feet had just touched the floor when Pamela rushed in with at least twelve other people. "Good! She's up! Let's get to work ladies and gentlemen!"

Jazz threw her an apologetic look as she too was swept toward a hoard of people. Sam sighed. The battle had begun.

* * *

The last four and a half hours had been a flash of makeup, curling irons, and white…lots and lots of white. She was currently in her wedding dress, perched in a custom-made seat that Henri had assured Pamela would not crinkle, wrinkle, or press one little crease into the dress. There were four different people doing simultaneous things and Sam was very uncomfortable.

There was the woman who had introduced herself as 'Jilly' who was currently painting her toes, her assistant Tawny, who was giving her a manicure, and a man and a woman who had not spoken to her at all, but had been fighting over which pin would be best for use in her hair for the last seventeen minutes or so.

Her makeup had been done by a petite blonde woman who spoke faster than she moved, which was saying something. Sam felt as though she'd barely had time to breathe before the woman was all done and was packing up her makeup kit. Actually, Sam hadn't felt that she'd had time to breathe at all since she'd been abducted that morning. She'd seen Jazz twice, once when they were getting their hair washed and again when they'd gotten their makeup done by The Flash.

Lynne however, had been by her side the entire morning. It was now eleven o'clock and Lynne sat in a chair not much different than her own, squirming as a stranger curled and pinned her long red hair. "Hey, Foreign Dude! For the fifth time, that was my scalp!"

Sam's lips turned up into a slight smile, happy to have a bit of normality. So far, things had been going relatively well. Aside from being tossed around like a life-sized doll, things hadn't gone as bad as she might have imagined. Another bright side was that she'd been allowed to keep her phone. Just a minute or so ago she'd received a text from Danny that said, "It's a good thing I've seen your dress already or else I might not recognize you in the sea of people packed into this place."

She'd readily responded, "That's bad luck you know." And had gotten, "I like our chances." in return.

She heard the sound of a bag rustling and turned her eyes (She wouldn't be turning her head again. Not since the scary lady with the comb had thwaped her on the top of her head the last time.) towards the direction of her sister.

"Are you…eating? Mom will kill you if you get something messy on that dress." Sam muttered, glancing back to see the scary lady watching her carefully in the mirror. She seriously gave her the chills.

"Not messy. Jerky." Lynne said, mouth full of what could only be the aforementioned jerky. "I got it from Big Pam."

"Is that what you're calling her now? She'll send you to a boarding school in Sri Lanka if she hears that." Sam informed her. Both Jilly and Tawny were packing up and moving toward Lynne at that point.

"No, Big Pam is from Texas. She's one of your bridesmaids' moms. Apparently she and her husband own some giant oil company in Dallas. Either way, she came packing with jerky so I'm not complaining."

It suddenly made more sense why she knew practically no one in her bridal party. Of course, her mother had chosen the daughters of wealthy potential investors. Jazz's entrance with one of her favorite people took her mind elsewhere as she smiled at the two of them.

"Oh, Sam." Maddie smiled. "You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

Sam smiled brightly at her mother-in-law. "Thanks, Mom." A quick glance around the room told her that she was safe from her mother's ears.

The odd pair finished with her hair, allowing her to stand up. Sam got a look at herself in the mirror and was surprisingly pleased with what she saw. While she was anxious and concerned about looking like a runway Barbie doll, she found that her makeup was simple and that her hair was set in delicate waves that were pinned up gently from her face. Her side bangs swept wistfully on the side of her face and she found that the light makeup that the fast woman had applied brought out her eyes tremendously. She removed the barber's cape that she had been wearing and revealed her dress to Maddie.

"Oh," The Fenton matriarch whispered, taken aback. Jazz shared her look as they took her in. Lynne too seemed to be marveling at Sam, all done up. It was then that Pamela made her entrance with a few other similarly dressed women that she did not recognize.

"Perfect." Pamela remarked crisply as the other women gushed over her. Sam smiled slightly, feeling uncomfortable from all of the strangers' attention. Soon enough however, it was not her that the focus was on.

"Oh! You must be the other mother!" one of the women cried out.

The step that Sam was about to take was cut short in terror, resulting in a sound that could have stopped her heart. Pamela's eyes whipped back from the woman, to Maddie, and finally to Sam and the awful ripping sound that had just come from her dress. "What have you done?" Pamela hissed, grabbing Sam and demanding the emergency kit. Immediately, Henri ran forward with a needle, thread, and pins. From where she sat, Lynne winced.

Finally, as the crisis seemed to be averted, the women turned back to Maddie. "You have such a handsome son." One of them informed her.

"And such a beautiful daughter!" Another one of the strangers pitched in. "It's so great that you're the Maid of Honor. Lovely that you two are so close." She addressed to Jazz.

"Oh yes!"

"Oh, naturally."

"It's Maddie, please." Maddie smiled graciously. The group of women were all flocked around the two Fenton women. Sam couldn't help but notice that her mother was pulling a little tightly on her dress.

"Other…mother." Pamela gave a slight laugh. "Ow!" Sam winced as Pamela incidentally stuck her with a pin. Jazz hurried over to take over the sewing duties as Pamela brushed her hands off.

"Let's keep our attention on the bride today, yes?" Pamela said, her smile plastic. Lynne carefully escaped the chair as the crew finished with her.

One of the women, Sam was willing to guess it was 'Big Pam' from her southern accent, laughed and turned to Pamela shaking her head. "Preaching to yourself, are you?"

Sam couldn't see anyone's face because of the angle she was positioned in toward the mirror, but she could imagine the look on her mother's face very well. A quick glance at Lynne told her she wasn't far off. The younger Manson quickly busied herself by examining her freshly painted French-tip.

"Pardon?" Pamela asked, in a tone that usually meant trouble. Paulina, who had just walked in wearing a tight teal bandage dress looked at the door hurriedly, as if contemplating whether she still had time to escape.

"Oh, lay off of it Pamela." A woman that she believed to be Lauren's mother laughed. "All you were talking about on the way in is your canary yellow Chanel suit and how _vintage_ it is. Not as vintage as you talking about yourself."

The other women chortled teasingly, but Pamela was having none of it. "Watch your mouth, Hillary. After all, your husband's still paying for it!" Pamela snapped.

The woman known as Hillary ground her heels into the plush white carpet. Lynne then took to closely examining her indigo colored bridesmaids dress.

"You've no right to talk about husbands, Pamela. Everyone in this room knows Jeremy hasn't touched you in years, you-you—_stodgy lesbian_!"

And there it was. Jazz and Maddie looked incredibly uncomfortable and Sam and Lynne stared at each other, unwilling to turn their glances to anyone else in the room. It was one of the strangers who broke the stony silence.

"Well, 'lesbian' isn't much of an insult. I'm very pro-Ellen DeGeneres. …But '_stodgy'_… unforgivable." Said the woman.

"It's like a slur." Piped another.

"There must be some kind of union we can call about that." Suggested the woman closest to her.

Sam sighed and nodded gratitude toward Jazz as she finished her dress. Grabbing her phone, she decided to answer Danny.

"That makes one of us." She texted.

* * *

Soon enough, the drama had dissipated and she finally had the room to herself. She gave a sigh and took a moment to examine herself in the mirror again. The effect was less enchanting now, probably because the whole wedding experience had lost its great start. She kind of wished she could have paused time and gone back to the moment before her mother had entered, when it was just Lynne, Jazz, Maddie, and herself.

She kind of wished she'd had a moment with Maddie and Maddie alone. In another world, if she weren't marrying Danny, she might have wished that Maddie had been her own mother. Because Maddie wouldn't have taken her moment and her day and made it all about her and a petty fight with other socialites. And because Maddie had told her she looked "beautiful" and not "perfect".

Because Maddie hadn't planned and fully constructed every detail of her look for the day. Sam wasn't perfect because she was Sam, nor because she was beautiful to her mother. Sam was perfect because she looked just like the picture her mother had detailed to perfection. Sam was a Manson…but not for long.

Sam shook her head and reminded herself that she truly didn't even want to be there and that she still kind of felt like a doll. A pretty doll, but a doll nonetheless. Breaking her moment of solitude, Lynne walked in gravely. "Uhm…Sam?"

"I swear, I do not want to hear another word about their fighting. Leave me to enjoy my sham of a special day." Sam sighed, sitting in her chair tiredly.

Lynne approached her, holding a small chart of some sort. "You might not get a special day."

Sam turned to her. "What are you talking about?"

Lynne came closer, holding the chart where she would be able to see it better. "You know how there's that part where people are all like 'I object!'? Well, I definitely found somebody who might object." Lynne held the seating chart out to her and pointed to a small cue card that made Sam's heart stop.

To the right of Lynne's finger in a neat script was written, "V. Grey".

* * *

At exactly three-fifteen PM her father came to get her. There was a woman who ushered them toward the doors as she quietly barked orders through a headset. Sam could barely register that her feet were even moving.

She was going to die.

Valerie was going to take one look at her with her expensive white dress, her polished hair, and her non-bucked teeth and she was going to shoot her—BAM! Dead. At least she'd get to wear the dress again. It bothered her a little that all of that trouble had been to find her a dress that she'd only wear once. At least now she'd be able to wear it twice: her wedding and her funeral.

She'd probably be buried tomorrow. Her mother would probably want to preserve the hair and makeup. Maybe if she spotted her first, she could ask her not to shoot her in the face, out of respect for her family.

She was barely aware of the harpist as the wedding march began. The doors slowly swung open, no doubt giving her quite the dramatic entrance, but all she could think about was the fact that she was going to die…in this dress. On second thought, if she was going to die, she'd rather it not be in the dress. It was a pretty nice dress, and not very comfortable to perish in.

Oh crap, she was going to die.

Somehow her feet were moving forward. Danny was more visible down the long aisle now. Something about his calm demeanor put her more at ease. She was now able to take in the well decorated room of the giant private venue. There were gorgeous white flowers everywhere, with touches of blues, violets, and indigos all around. Lynne and Jazz were smiling at her encouragingly from the front of the room, she noted. She also noted that all eyes were on her; thousands of eyes were on her. She was less nervous about Valerie now. With all of these witnesses, maybe, just maybe, she'd stand a chance.

Her anxious thoughts must have shown on her face since her father gave her an inconspicuously concerned look. She smiled reassuringly and gently squeezed his arm as they walked closer and closer to the front of the aisle. She could nearly touch Danny now, as her father stopped and took her hand and placed it in Danny's. She kissed her father on the cheek and he kissed the top of her veil.

She was more comfortable than she had thought she would be, and was glad that she'd fought with her mother to keep the veil back. It was nice to see Danny without having to look through a thin sheet of fabric.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God and in the presence of these witnesses to join Samantha and Daniel in holy matrimony," began the officiator. He was about the same height as Danny, but much older with thinning brown hair.

She took this time to take in Danny, in his dark suit. He was handsome and he was smiling at her, looking her right in the eyes. She wanted to look away, but looking away might have meant looking at one of the thousands of people in the large room, and that she refused to do. She looked into his familiar blue eyes and felt even more at ease than before.

"—and if anyone here may object to the union of Daniel and Samantha, speak now or forever hold your peace." The man announced. There was a brief moment of silence in which Sam held a breathe and prepared to be assassinated.

"Very well." The officiator nodded. "We shall commence."

Sam wasn't quite stunned, but she was very surprised. She wasn't going to perish in her overpriced wedding dress? Not that she was complaining or anything!

"The bride and groom have chosen to write their own vows. Daniel?" The man turned to Danny who nodded.

Somewhere in the large crowd of people, Sam could imagine her mother gritting her teeth. She hadn't known about the personalized vows, and Sam could only guess that Danny had somehow alerted the officiator to the change in plans, thankfully. She and Danny had decided to write their own vows about a week before the wedding. Sam had gotten a glimpse at what Pamela had prepared, and it made her feel sick. It could have been because the vows were obviously recycled and that 'Adam' had been crossed out several times and replaced with 'Daniel' on the sheet she'd seen.

Tucker handed Danny a small card, to which Danny gave his signature smile to his best friend. Sam couldn't help but smile too, it was contagious.

"Sam," Danny began. "The first time I met you, I knew you were spectacular. I heard this quote that was something like 'you don't marry someone you can live with, you marry someone you can't live without'. I can honestly say that I can't imagine my life without you in it. I can't imagine not standing here…for the second time." A few people laughed, and Sam smiled at him, feeling as though she were lighter than ever.

"So I decided to promise a few things for our first year…and every year after that." Sam couldn't help but smirk at the slip. "I promise not to accidentally run over your cell-phone again." Danny glanced at the card. Sam laughed.

The day after Lynne's birthday, Danny had run over her prized Blackberry in Monster. She was more stunned than angry. It had happened so quickly. Of course when he'd showed up at her apartment with a brand new iPhone, he was more than forgiven.

"And I promise not to take you to my parents' house again unless I'm absolutely positive there's take-out. I promise not to ever grow a mustache…since you're convinced that it would look like a caterpillar on my face." Danny chuckled. Sam, and a bunch of others in the crowd of attendees laughed again. "And I promise…to listen when you need me to listen and to talk when you need me to talk. I promise to protect you from the Box Ghosts of the world…and the more dangerous things. Most of all, Sam, I promise to be your best friend and the best husband I can be."

If Sam had had to kiss Danny right then and there, she knew it would have been a lot less daunting than she'd made it out to be. The whole experience, where Danny was involved, was a whole lot better than she'd made it out to be. She didn't have time to dwell on anything as the officiator turned to her.

"Oh…okay. I…I was never the princess type." Sam started off. She didn't need the piece of paper she'd quickly scrawled this all down on. She was pretty sure she knew it by heart. "I'm still not and yet somehow I'm in this dress with these…shoes and I'm pretty sure the only thing I'm missing is some pretty impressive metal on my head."

Danny grinned and Sam was reminded of just how much she enjoyed that grin. She was reminded of just how much she enjoyed Danny, and all of the fun and the excitement that came with him.

_Danny and Sam had gone up to Lynne's room the next morning. Sam was cellphone-less, not that she really minded. It was an excuse not to receive any of the twelve daily emails her mother was sending about wedding preparations. She could go down the aisle naked for all she cared…well…okay, maybe not naked, but she truly did not care about wedding dress trends or what 'cut would look best with her frame'. Danny, after apologizing profusely about murdering her cellphone with Monster…she meant __**Betsy**__, had gone back to the suspicious behavior exhibited when he'd first showed up outside of her apartment. He'd given her less than ten minutes of notice and had been acting elusive since she'd gotten into the truck and buckled her seatbelt. When they'd finally made it to the mansion, after the crime occurred, he urged her to follow him to Lynne's room. _

_They'd just gone in, after making their presence known, to find Lynne lying on her stomach, with her head hanging near the edge of the bed. She was obviously still depressed, and would hardly acknowledge them. "You look silly." Danny announced. The redhead glanced up at him. "No, I don't. I look like a melancholy teen redhead who is contemplating lying here and moping some more or going downstairs to stuff my face with fancy imported jelly." _

_Sam pulled a face as Danny shrugged. "You're right…but now you look silly." Seemingly out of nowhere, Danny pulled out a can of silly string and unleashed it on the younger Manson. Lynne promptly sat up, neon green string hanging from her hair. _

"_It'll make you feel better." Danny promised, offering up the can. Lynne readily accepted it and joined Danny in turning to Sam. Danny had produced yet another can from who knew where and was aiming it at Sam._

"_Join or surrender." Danny announced in his most heroic voice. _

"_What? No. No, no, no, no—" There was silly string on her face before she could finish. Deciding that it was war, she grabbed his can and sprayed him mercilessly until his hair was coated in bright orange. Soon enough, Lynne's room was covered in every neon color imaginable. The three of them were in a laughing heap when the door to Lynne's room opened. _

_They all froze as Consuela stepped into the room in shock. _

"_Consuela, we will clean all of this up, I am so sorry." Sam apologized. _

_The maid simply picked up the can that was nearest to the door and sprayed it until a bright stream of yellow attacked the floor. "I can clean later. This can not empty." She threw the can at Danny who caught it, and turned and left the room with a smile. _

Sam smiled to herself at the memory. "And just when I thought that my whole life…my whole story had been written for me, you came along and you changed everything. And you taught me that sometimes it's good to change everything. And that life isn't something that you plan or let others plan for you. It's something that you make up yourself along the way. So I also promise to be a good wife, and to be your best friend. And I guess I promise not to grow a mustache, too." More people laughed at this, including the officiator and Danny himself.

"And I promise to be nicer to _Betsy_…to your face. And if I could take any more responsibility for my family, I would. Especially that one." She nodded toward Lynne. "And most of all I promise to always keep our united front, no matter what it is or who we're against. I promise to always choose you."

Danny smiled at her graciously and Sam again, refused to look away from him.

"Do we have the rings?" The officiator asked.

She felt a little stab of panic. This is what made it official. This is what meant that they were married. Suddenly, the word was seeming a little scary again. Jazz handed her the ring, and Sam noticed that, of course, thanks to her mother it was absolutely not the same ring as before. She was holding a platinum band, with three small stones in a more masculine cut. The center stone was a diamond, while the left stone was a light sapphire and the right stone was amethyst. Sam realized that her father must have chosen the rings because they matched their eyes perfectly.

"Do you, Daniel Jack Fenton take Samantha Elizabeth Manson to be your lawfully wedded wife, in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?" The officiator asked Danny.

"I do." Danny nodded, once again looking at Sam. He gently slid the ring onto her finger, and Sam was instantly reminded of the first moment when she'd realized there had been a ring on that finger in the first place. It had felt odd to have it then, but now it felt as though it would be odd to be without it now.

"And do you, Samantha Elizabeth Manson take Daniel Jack Fenton to be your lawfully wedded husband, in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." Sam said, taking the ring from Jazz and putting it on Danny's finger.

"By the authority committed unto me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." The officiator smiled.

It happened so quickly, but in such slow motion. Danny had taken the extra step to close the slight gap in between them, and before she knew it, his lips were on hers. It felt so new, but so familiar, like many of the drunken memories that had resurfaced. He held her face gingerly, and somehow her arms had wrapped themselves around his neck of their own accord. They broke apart slowly, both smiling at each other and displaying a sense of relief. It was finally over.

"For the first time ever, I would like to announce Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Fenton."

Everyone stood and clapped and cheered. It sounded thunderous in the echo of the room with all of the occupants of those filled seats giving a standing ovation. Sam caught the eye of both Danny's parents and her own. Jack and Maddie looked beside themselves with happiness, while her father stood, proud and approving. Her mother, most likely still slighted by her rejected vows, clapped politely and made sure to widen her plastic smile when she made eye contact with others. Sam gave a bright smile to Jazz, who was officially her sister now, and to her actual sister who, though she knew she'd deny it, looked like she had been crying a little. Tucker hurried to hug them, as did Jazz and Lynne before they were ushered off of the platform and down the aisle as light snowy confetti fell from the ceiling.

Once the doors had closed and they were finally able to breathe, Danny turned to her. "So how's it feel to be a Fenton?"

Sam smirked. "Like a Manson with white crap in my hair."

There was a moment before they both started laughing and were ushered back to their respective rooms where they would be changing for the reception. Taking her time before changing into her second dress, a shorter white dress that hugged her body delicately with a pretty white lace framing, she admired the ring on her finger. It was the feminine match to Danny's with a simple platinum band and gorgeously expensive jewels in an emerald cut. She wasn't even going to fathom how many carats it was. She admired the trifecta of jewels for a few moments more before she put the other dress on.

She'd meant what she'd said about change and it looked like things were definitely changing. For the better, she was sure.


	16. The Elephant In The Room

Okay, so it's my birthday today and I decided that today would be the day that you guys finally (I know, I know!) get Chapter 16! And since you've all waited so patiently I'm giving you guys the longest chapter of this story so far. It's over 9,000 words, guys.

I completely missed my deadline, I know. But I can honestly say that I have re-written this entire chapter three times! I got a little derailed by a family emergency, but I didn't forget about you. So to all of you readers and reviewers out there, I listen, I swear! And to prove it, I've taken special care to include a few things that you all have been asking for. Here's hoping that the third time is the charm!

Also, there's a new 'CLV' poll on my author's page, so don't forget to check it out!

* * *

How did it feel to be a Fenton? To be honest, it didn't feel any different. She supposed that someone should have asked her that question when she'd first woken up in the Antheneum with a wedding band on. She had been feeling _pretty strong_ emotions toward being a Fenton then, but at the moment she wasn't feeling much of anything. Maybe it was because she'd had practice being a Fenton before she had ceremoniously been given the title.

Or maybe she was relatively calm because of the adrenaline rush she was experiencing knowing that Valerie was still lurking around somewhere. She emerged from the room in her second dress with her change of shoes in her hand, bumping into Jazz who was standing right outside of the door.

"So how does it feel to be a Fenton?" Jazz asked as soon as they untangled themselves. Sam had nearly knocked her over but she'd caught her balance on the doorknob of one of the nearby doors.

"You're the second Fenton to ask me that." Sam informed her, still trying to answer that question for herself. She gestured for Jazz to come closer as she balanced to put her shoes on. Jazz held her steady as she slid them on and when she did a quick spin, Jazz brushed her shoulder off and nodded her approval.

"And I won't be the last." She assured her. "Any more costume changes or are we good here?" The redhead asked with a small smile, earning a glower from her new sister-in-law.

"No, this is it." Sam said. "Then again, my mother is capable of anything."

Sam could only imagine the spectacle that she was about to walk into. She'd practically begged and pleaded with her mother for her not to do anything outrageously lavish. In her opinion, she thought she'd made a damn good argument. She'd reminded her mother that a.) the family was broke, b.) the marriage was fake and of course c.) the family was broke and there's no reason to spend a whole bunch of money when the marriage was fake! Of course, Pamela had only replied that Sam was getting off easy.

Thinking again, Sam supposed that she was catching a break. After all, she could have been poor Bhinni Gupta whose Indian parents had elephants at her wedding. If there was one thing Sam could be pretty sure of, it would be that there would be no elephants. The thought of Pamela even coming anywhere near an elephant was enough to reassure her that the reception, though it would probably be many things, would at least be elephant-free…at least she hoped so.

"Where's Danny?" Realizing that the other half of the arrangement was missing, Sam scanned the hallway briefly only to find that her new husband was nowhere to be seen. "Is he still changing?"

Jazz shook her head and turned her in the opposite direction from which she had just come. "Nope, this way. He's waiting by the door for you two to make your grand entrance."

The idea of making a grand entrance left a bitter taste in her mouth. Sam already knew her mother's motives for the reception. Her primary responsibility during the wedding was to make Pamela look good. She was supposed to say all the right vows, smile at all the right times, and gaze lovingly at Danny as though he was the moon to her sun. The reception however, was Pamela's actual opportunity to shine. She already knew her mother would be working the room and flaunting the event in the faces of everyone there.

Sam started in the direction that Jazz had pointed her to, ready to get on with things, only to have the other woman put a hand out to stop her. She gave Jazz a questioning look before earning a sigh from her.

"Wait. I have to say something first." Jazz put both hands on Sam's shorter shoulders and gave her a small smile. "Thank you."

Perplexed, Sam returned her smile in confusion. "You're welcome…why am I welcoming you? Don't say for this wedding experience. If this is your idea of a good time, then you really need to get out more…unless you've seen an elephant. Are there elephants in there?!"

Jazz hugged her tightly with a laugh. "What? No."

As they broke apart, Sam saw that she was tearing up. "Jazz, what's going on?" Though she and Jazz had become relatively close over the last few months and literally relatives in the last hour, she could not remember a time when she'd seen the older Fenton cry.

"Sometimes when two people are meant to be together things just happen. And when you're meant to be together and you…care so deeply for each other that…Sam, it just feels right. Everything just feels right and everything just falls into place. When you're meant to be with someone, everyone can tell and certain secrets come to light. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

Sam wasn't sure whether to nod or to run. Jazz was either referencing she and Tucker…or herself and Danny. Either way, she didn't like where the conversation was going. "Ja—"

"What is the hold up? Where is the bride?" A voice cried out from around the corridor, interrupting her. "Mrs. Manson is going to _lose it_!"

"Come on, before your mother has a conniption." Jazz replied evasively. Sam didn't have time to object as she was hurriedly led to where Danny was standing by two large wooden doors, where she could hear faint laughter and conversation on the other side. He looked up at the sound of their footsteps and gave an easy smile.

"I was starting to think the bride had been abducted." He grinned, nodding at Jazz.

"She tried to desert. I told her once you're a Fenton there's no way out." Jazz grinned back.

She stopped to hug Danny before turning to give a meaningful look to Sam. Sam would have felt a lot better had she actually known what the meaning was. Had she just been thanked for keeping her secret or for something else?

As Jazz's footsteps grew quieter, another pair of footsteps grew louder as a man in a light gray suit hurried toward them. "Exactly two minutes before you walk in, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton."

"Thank you." Sam found her fingers brushing against her scalp at the sound of her new surname. It had taken forever to get all of the twists, knots, and pins out of her hair. Thankfully, her hair was soon freed from its prison and now hung down her shoulders in slight beachy waves.

"So you tried to run off, huh?" Danny asked, putting his hands in the pockets of his suit pants.

Sam nodded easily despite the slight tightening in her chest. "Yeah. I wanted to go see if I could get a do-over. Go become Mrs. Cain."

Danny pulled a face. "Talk like that is grounds for divorce, Mrs. Fenton."

She found that it was easier to laugh standing there with Danny. The nervous feeling that had begun to build up dissipated and she felt herself easing up tremendously. "Relax. If I intended to run off with Adam, I would have taken him up on his offer last night."

Danny looked at her questionably. "Wait, what?"

The man in the grey suit made a waving motion to someone they couldn't see and gestured for the pair of them to face forward. Sam reached for Danny's hand reassuringly and smiled up at him as he clasped his hand into her own. In that moment Adam Cain and his ego were the least of their concerns. It was show time.

The smell of lilacs and vanilla filled the air as the large wooden doors opened in a dramatic swinging motion. Sam could feel the light pressure of Danny's hand in hers as well as the throbbing on her scalp from the bunch of pins that had pressed against her head. With her free hand she quickly smoothed her dress from the bodice down before the doors opened wide enough for them to be seen. The light scent wafted past her and into the hall as the two of them began their entrance into the reception area as Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Fenton.

"You know," Danny murmured, stopping as flashes went off all around them. "You never asked me how it felt to be a Manson."

The man in the grey suit was now gesturing for them to continue stepping forward. Sam paused for a moment before realizing that he was right. He was a Manson now as much as she was a Fenton. She wasn't entirely sure whether it would be seen as a positive or a negative in her mother's eyes. Speaking of her mother; she quickly scanned the crowd of people standing for their entrance, but couldn't find Pamela's face. Sam made a conscious effort to focus on Danny as she heard herself being publically announced for the first time as "Mrs. Daniel Fenton".

"Well, how _does_ it feel?" She questioned with a smile, stopping short as the man stopped them to allow a large table to be wheeled gracefully in their direction. The two of them watched as their colossal wedding cake approached.

Danny paused before remarking in a low tone, "Expensive."

The cake was all of the white, fluffy goodness that Pamela had promised and more…so much more than necessary. Sam didn't dare count the tiers, for it looked as though her mother had gone and added an additional two or three. At the very top of the enormous square cake were two figurines that were exact replicas of Danny and Sam.

'_It's not an elephant…it's not an elephant…it's just a cake the size of one, but at least it is not an actual elephant_..._'_ Sam thought, holding a deep breath.

Twelve straight minutes of photography took place before Sam and Danny were permitted to sit in their seats at the special table that had been assigned to them. It was long and rectangular and its place in the front of the room only added to the dramatic presence that Pamela had been shamelessly trying to achieve. Danny and Sam sat in the two silk covered indigo chairs as their immediate families sat to the right and to the left of them in plain white chairs.

"I feel like Queen Elizabeth." Danny muttered. He looked as though he were taking in the large mass of people, which Sam had already forbidden herself from doing. With her luck she would end up scanning to room only to make eye-contact with the devil himself.

"I look like Queen Elizabeth." Sam fired back, squirming in her throne.

"Now, you two sit here." A short dark-haired woman with a slight mustache and a clipboard said, as though they weren't already sitting. "This is the perfect place for all of the pictures that are no doubt going to be taken today." As she went to walk away, Danny stopped her.

"Uh, what are these?" Danny asked, gesturing to all of the little silver bells on the table.

Sam picked one up and lifted the tag hanging from one of them. "'This tiny wedding bell salutes the bride and groom and the joy that fills the room'," she read. "'Ring it loud when they are near, so all may hear the pledge of love they hold so dear?' What in the he—"

"Kissing bells, darling-dears." The woman beamed at them. "They ring them. You kiss. It's adorable. Picture perfect. Now if you'll excuse me." The woman hurried off, marking off little 'X's on her clipboard.

"Well, if that isn't the most terrifying thing I've ever heard of." Lynne piped up, plopping down next to Sam and dutifully ignoring the look of horror that crossed her now-present mother's face.

As Jazz sat beside Danny, a single harp glistened softly before a trio of violins led an entire orchestra through a series of background music. A decent amount of chatter began to build up again as the orchestra continued, giving the official notice of the beginning of the wedding reception.

Sam gave a quiet sigh, resigning to her fate as a matrimonial puppet. This was in fact Pamela's wedding performance—signed, sealed with a kiss, and delivered as promised. She had no idea how she'd done it, but she had somehow survived the majority of the wedding. She wouldn't admit it aloud, but Adam's proposition had made her think. While she would promptly have chewed glass before even considering a word of what he said, it made her wonder how the day might have gone the first time, had her first impromptu wedding not forced her to call the whole thing off.

Would she have been sitting here—not with Danny, but with Adam—bracing herself for a lifetime of fake smiles, furious arguments and…Otis? She probably would have come in on an elephant.

The unintentional shudder from all things 'Otis' stirred her from that mindset. She wasn't trapped anymore…or at all, really. Their wedding day was the first day of the year that they would be contracted to spend together. At the end of the evening, the countdown began. The difference between marrying Danny and marrying Adam was that with Adam there was no other foreseeable future. Marrying Adam was the end.

It was a lifelong sentence as Mrs. Adam Cain that promised nothing but misery, heartache, and Otis…_that damned Otis_. But with Danny…with Danny, Sam wasn't sure. Sam wasn't sure about a lot of things lately.

"Hello…Earth to the chick in the white dress…" Lynne waved her hand in Sam's face erratically. "You okay? You've been spaced out for like five minutes."

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Lynne gave her a look, but let it go. "Right. Well, I don't think there's enough room in that dress for you _and_ your thoughts. It's so tight in there you might pop a boob or something."

Sam gave her a sideways glance before shifting toward Danny, who also seemed lost in his own thoughts. She put a hand on his shoulder, earning another smile from him. They would have time to talk later though…they'd have nothing _but_ time for the next year.

The food was being served around her, though Sam didn't have much of an appetite, when she noticed a group of redheads that she'd never seen before. They were looking in her direction as though they were waiting for her to come over. Sam didn't recognize them and she doubted that she knew them. Though in reality, she could only say she knew or even recognized about forty percent of the guests in attendance, if even that.

Danny followed her gaze as he fiddled with the fork on his plate. "Oh, that's right. You still haven't met them. Come on." He stood up and offered her his hand, which she took easily, placing her own fork back onto the lace napkin beside her plate.

Danny and Sam walked around the table to the group that Sam had made eye contact with. Upon their arrival one of the women, a tall redhead with a muscular build, brought Danny into a hug. "Danny! Look how grown up you look. You look so handsome and so distinguished." The woman next turned to her. "And Samantha, what a lovely bride. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Sam, this is my Aunt Alicia. Aunt Alicia, this is—"

"The new Mrs. Fenton, of course! I swear the Fenton women make such beautiful brides. Well, I could say that for sure if Jazz ever seemed to bring up a man in conversation who wasn't a dead scientist." Alicia winked, earning a laugh from Sam who dared to peer in the direction of Jazz. Just when she was beginning to forget about the unspeakable…and the incident in the hall.

If Sam had been unsure before, she was absolutely positive that Aunt Alicia was from Maddie's side of the family. The woman wasted no time in hugging Sam warmly, a gesture that her mother-in-law had done often. Separating, Sam could definitely note the similarities in Alicia and Maddie, though Maddie was definitely more delicate than her sister.

Sam was introduced to a great-aunt, grandmother, and two great-uncles from the Walker side of the family before meeting Jack's side of the family. Jack's side was definitely bigger…in both number and shape. Danny's grandmother, who he affectionately named as 'Bitty', was anything but. The larger woman was obviously about Gram's age, but was still able to grab her into a colossal bear hug.

There was no question about where Jack had gotten that from. Sam endured three more bear-like hugs from the rest of the newly introduced Fenton clan before she was sure her spine was going to snap in two. One of Danny's three aunts from his father's side, who happened to be much svelter than the rest of them, held off from the affectionate greeting and only looked at Sam sideways before muttering a curt, "Congrats."

"That's Aunt Joanne. We stay away from Aunt Joanne." Danny whispered, as the two made their way back to the table. She nodded. She would definitely be doing that. Sam was _pretty positive_ she wouldn't be hanging out with her on any holidays.

The dinner portion of the reception went by fast enough and the orchestra was dismissed as a band walked in with brass instruments. A woman with a clipboard walked up to Danny and told them that it would be time for their first dance very shortly. Danny grinned.

"Have you figured out our song yet?" Danny asked, once again offering her his hand. With an eyebrow raised, Sam shook her head. "If it's Taylor Swift my mother will make me a widow."

Danny and Sam were instructed to take their places on the edge of the dance floor as the band suddenly began to play a very lively tune with trumpets. The bandleader came up to the microphone and began to sing along to the jazzy tune. "You can dance every dance with a guy…"

Sam laughed. It was the song from the night of her parents' dinner. "_This _is our song? I might have preferred 'Kokomo'. That was a horrible night!" She said, laughing.

Danny's grin widened as he spun Sam and brought her closer to himself in the center of the dance floor. "Tremendously horrible. I still can't look that Duchess woman in the eye. But it is the first song we've ever danced to together."

"Sober." Sam corrected with a smirk.

"Sober…that is not Taylor Swift related, yes." Danny corrected her correction. "God forbid you become a widow."

Sam laughed into his shoulder as they swayed to the music, slightly oblivious to the eyes on them. "God forbid."

She was starting to get used to it as much as a girl could get used to being gawked at. She unintentionally smelled the crook of his neck as he turned his head toward her. The smell of his aftershave filled her nose as she became more aware of his palm and it's placement on the small of her back. Danny mouthed the words to the song, earning a laugh from Sam.

"This is all adding up to be a wonderfully terrible story to tell our grandchildren someday." Sam immediately backpedaled, realizing that it sounded much differently out loud than it had in her head. "Our…individual…grandchildren."

Danny snickered, leaning back slightly to catch the awful blush on her face. She could feel it. She could feel her face being flushed with red. "Are you propositioning me, Mrs. Fenton? In front of all these people? For shame."

Sam pursed her lips together in amusement, reminded of the night when Danny came to her apartment with flowers. "Yes, actually. I'm afraid that marriage has turned me into a harlot of sorts."

"Can't say I'm surprised." Danny shrugged, leaning away when Sam swatted at him. "I mean, I honestly saw it coming."

They were close again, continually swaying, when she heard it. There was a slight tinkling sound coming from all around them. A quick glance around the room confirmed her fears as she saw the tiny silver bells in everyone's hands. It was much easier to close the distance between them than it had been before. There was little to no hesitation as their lips met in the middle of the large marble dance floor.

Their feet had stopped moving as she cupped his chin and leaned into the hand on the small of her back. Sam was relatively sure she'd been the first to hear the tinkling stop and move away. She fluttered her eyelids open to see Danny staring at her, wearing his familiar smile.

She wasn't sure when it had gotten easier to pretend, but when the bells went off four more times in that next hour, the feeling of panic she'd once had in her stomach had almost completely vanished. After being forced to kiss for the sixth time, Sam gave Paulina a harrowing glare as she approached their table, bell in hand.

"Ring it and I'll break every finger, so help me." Sam said through her smile as she and Danny posed for yet another photograph.

Luckily, Paulina (and her fingers) got saved by Lynne rushing up to the couple with three strangers. Knowing better than to initiate questioning with Lynne, Sam simply stared expectantly until the petite girl began.

"Okay! Danny, Sam, meet this guy. His name is Mr. Guy. And this man's name is Mr. Manning." She said, gesturing to two of the three strangers. "And this dude…well, his name is something in Russian that I can't pronounce, _so we're just gonna call him 'Frank'._" Lynne stage-whispered, looking over at the happily smiling foreign blonde man.

"Tell me this has a point." Danny smirked to Sam who shrugged.

"It's Lynne." She reminded, turning back to her sister in expectation.

Lynne, as though she didn't hear them, continued. "Anyhow, all of these gentlemen are at a table together with Mr. Grey. _Mr. Vincent Grey, _a dude I've never met, know nothing about, and am puh-retty sure has no motive to kill you!" She beamed emphatically.

In spite of Lynne's antics and the confusion clearly displayed on Danny's face, Sam gave a small laugh of relief. Vincent Grey was the 'V. Grey' on the seating chart. It was one less thing she had to worry about, which she was incredibly grateful for. She wasn't going to die.

"I take back my insult. You're a pretty cool sister, Lynne." Sam smiled. Lynne was, for the most part, a relatively good sibling.

"Say that!" Lynne proclaimed, turning to leave as she snapped her fingers above her head with a shimmy.

…Then of course Lynne was also another kind of sibling too. Sam hung her head slightly as a few guests paused in their actions to watch the overzealous teen shimmy her way to the other side of the room where Fi appeared to be.

Sam hadn't even noticed that Tucker was standing near them until she heard him announce, "And I'm going to take that as my cue to bogart the bride."

Channeling their inner fifteen-year-olds, Tucker and Danny did a mock bow to each other as Danny handed Sam's hand over to Tucker as her father had done during the ceremony. Sam simply shook her head. She'd already known about the invisible fine print in the arrangement that meant marrying Danny meant marrying Tucker, too. Allowing herself to be 'bogarted', Sam let Tucker lead her through the steps on the floor, trying her hardest to smile through the awkwardness she was feeling.

She hadn't spoken to Tucker in weeks and she hadn't seen him since she'd learned of the _unspeakable_. Well, maybe it wasn't unspeakable, but Sam could swear on her life that she wasn't going to be the one speaking about it. As Tucker took her hand she suppressed a shudder and tried to block out all thoughts of just where that hand had been.

'_Happy thoughts…happy thoughts…Jazz and Tucker…crap.'_

"I should probably get my dance in before Jack comes to haul his new daughter-in-law away. I suppose I could just dance with your sister, after. Kid's got moves." Her new husband's bespectacled best friend joked.

Sam's insides gave a twitch as she looked over Tucker's shoulders to see Jazz…and Portia Cain, giving her the devil's stare-down. She hurriedly looked back to Tucker, not sure whether she should hide or be happy that it hadn't been her son.

"Yeah, I don't know about that. You don't have the best track record with redheaded sisters." Sam gave a nervous smile. So much for unspeakable.

The smile fell slightly from Tucker's face and his brow became furrowed. She hadn't meant to put him on the spot like that though she hoped that he had known about her knowing, especially if Jazz had been trying to tell her of her feelings for him. She also had questions. Questions that she never wanted answered because that would mean speaking about the unspeakable…that she happened to be speaking about.

"Well, it's good to address the elephant in the room." Tucker replied, rather confused to Sam's proclamation of "What?!" as her eyes darted around the room wildly. Realizing that he was using a figure of speech, she relaxed a little more.

"Hey, it was a drunken mistake. You of all people should know about those." Tucker wagged his eyebrows suggestively and she nudged his foot, giving him a look that told him that she was not amused.

"Look, it's one thing for you two to have a secret. It's another thing for you two to _involuntarily_ involve me in a secret. It's a completely different thing for you two to have a secret, involuntarily involve me in it and then force me to hide it from Danny. I'm sure if you guys would have just spoken to Danny like adults that the whole thing could have blown over by now. He would have been upset but it's nothing close to how upset he'll be if…_when_ he finds out about this." She let her words sink in for a moment before continuing.

"And the fact that I've known for weeks does not help." Sam sighed.

She was not comfortable carrying around that type of information, especially when she was forced to carry it around all on her own. Well, Lynne and Paulina knew, but what help were they? Lynne was in her own little world most of the time and, in Sam's opinion, her teenage sister had no business getting involved with the situation. And of course anyone who'd ever met Paulina could tell you that she wasn't much for moral support…or moral anything.

"The thing with Jazz and I—" Tucker began.

"Already too much information. From here on out, anything involving the both of you in a sentence is far too much information." Sam cut him off. She didn't want to hear any more about anything. There would be no further mention of things! The last thing she needed was for Tucker to go blurting out that he had feelings for Jazz, especially since there was a chance that Jazz had just confided in her feelings for Tucker.

Tucker led them to another part of the dance floor that was more isolated as the flashes around them became more apparent. They continued dancing as Tucker leaned in so that his hushed tone would be heard. "Sam, we aren't…we didn't…we never…"

After another false start, Tucker finally seemed to find the words. "If Danny knew the truth, the absolute truth, it could be…painful for a lot of people. You included."

Sam cast her amethyst eyes on his deep turquoise ones in confusion. "Tucker, what are you talking about exactly?"

Her mind hurriedly ran through all of the possible scenarios in which she could get hurt as a result of this coming out. Did Tucker mean emotionally? Sam couldn't imagine a situation in which there would be a reason and or an opportunity for her to be hurt physically. If Jazz had been trying to tell her that she had feelings for Tucker, was Tucker now telling her that they were unrequited? She was beginning to wonder if she had spoken too soon about her preference over dealing with all things Adam related. At least with Adam she already knew to expect a headache.

Unfortunately for Sam, the song ended and Tucker quickly turned her over to her waiting father-in-law with a sad smile. "Trust me, Mrs. Fenton. It's for the best." He said, adjusting his glasses.

Sam faltered, taking a half-step toward Jack before she turned back to Tucker. She was too distracted to even realize that she had been addressed by her new surname again. "I'm really not so sure." She responded flatly.

She wasn't sure about what Jazz had been talking about before the reception, she wasn't sure what had happened between Jazz and Tucker, she wasn't sure what she was going to do when Danny found out, and she was absolutely not so sure that any of this was for the best. Sam hadn't thought it was possible to feel even worse about the situation between Tucker and Jazz…or that she might have actually preferred speaking with Adam.

"I'm sorry Jack, can you give me a moment?" Sam turned to follow Tucker but he had already rejoined the masses. With a sigh she turned back to Jack only to discover that he too had disappeared, leaving her standing amongst a bunch of people who felt it necessary to offer their congratulations. Sam tried to make her smile as believable as possible as she made her way back to the table. As she got close enough, she found Maddie, who also looked as though she were trying to locate a familiar face.

"Sam," Maddie smiled graciously. "Have you seen Danny or my husband?"

Sam shook her head. "No. Jack just disappeared and I was just about to go look for Danny."

At least with the matriarch of the Fenton family, Sam knew where she stood. She could expect a simple, calm and relaxing conversation with her, which was exactly what she needed after her talk with Tucker. Maddie sat down in one of the simple white chairs and Sam sat next to her, abandoning her lavish seat. Maddie put a hand over hers and patted it gently with a soft smile. She didn't say anything, and instead turned to look back at the moving people in front of them. Sam did the same and was surprisingly pleased to see that everyone was having a pleasant time. She got a few waves and she waved back with the hand that wasn't beneath Maddie's. Of course she knew none of them, but what was one more sham?

"When Danny was younger," Maddie began in a hushed tone. "I remember he had the biggest crush on this girl in his first grade class. Jack thought it was the cutest thing…and it was, don't get me wrong. But all I kept thinking was that one day…someday some girl was going to steal him away from me."

She still wasn't looking at Sam, and Sam was beginning to worry. So much for relaxing conversation…what if Maddie felt that Sam had stolen her son from her? Had she ever actually accepted her as her daughter-in-law? In all actuality, they hadn't given her much choice. They'd waltzed right in and announced that they were married. What other choice did Maddie have except to accept this girl who suddenly shared her last name?

"And then Danny met Valerie and I knew that the moment I had been secretly dreading had come. The way he was with her…it was like I didn't recognize him. That Valerie is a very intense girl." Maddie explained, now looking at their hands.

"Tell me about it." Sam muttered, also moving her glance to the table where their hands lay before she looked back at Maddie. She decided that she was going to have to learn to stop wishing for better. Every time she thought she would prefer one conversation over another, she was hit with an even worse one.

"And as a result it was a very intense relationship. So imagine my surprise when my son walks in the front door with a girl I'd never met, let alone seen before, and announces that he's married her. He's standing there and he's describing an incredibly stressful and insane situation and he looks…perfectly calm." Maddie was now looking at her.

"I—…" Sam faltered. She wasn't sure where this was going. Was it too late to find Adam? He was beginning to seem like the lesser of all evils.

"For the first time in four years, he looked perfectly calm. Happy, actually. Jack and I went into the kitchen and we were just…star-struck. The same way that Danny is star-struck with you. Thank you, Sam. I have seen Danny happy, and I have seen Danny in a relationship…but I have never seen Danny happy in a relationship."

Sam took a deep, silent breath in. Depending on what Jazz's conversation meant, this might have been the second Fenton to not only give their full-fledged approval of their relationship, but to thank her for it. The only difference was, Jazz knew the true nature of their relationship and Maddie didn't.

"Maddie, I…" Sam trailed off. She was at a complete loss for words.

"Sam," Her mother-in-law smiled warmly. "Today you are not only a Fenton. You are the new Mrs. Fenton and there is no other person in this world that I could be happier sharing this title with. There is no other person in this world that I could imagine making Danny any happier."

Sam's heart dropped. Maddie didn't know that their marriage wasn't real. What would she do in a year? There were only two options and neither one was any good. They could fake a divorce and completely crush the other Mrs. Fenton…or they could tell her the truth and she could risk Maddie absolutely hating her. How could she do that when she had just said all of those things about her?

At that very moment, disproving Sam's idea that things couldn't possibly get any worse for her, Pamela chose to make her way to their table. Her mother's swarthy stare at their hands did not go unnoticed by Sam, but she didn't move for fear of insulting Maddie. One mother was already upset with her, why make it two?

"Samantha, it is time to receive your gifts and cut into the cake. Where is Daniel? Your maid of honor too, where is she? Is she not aware that she is an integral part in the process of gift acceptance? Was it not made clear enough?" Pamela questioned crisply.

Sam smiled apologetically at Maddie before getting up carefully, not wanting to bring a criticism upon herself about the way she had been sitting in her dress. She scanned through a few groups of people quickly before shaking her head slightly. "I'm not sure. I actually haven't seen Jazz in a bit. She probably knows where Danny is." She turned to Maddie as if to ask if she would be okay upon her leave.

"Go on, honey. Look, here's Jack right now." She rose to greet her husband who seemed more enthusiastic than usual.

"Baby, you'll never guess who I just ran into." He proclaimed energetically. Sam smiled at his enthusiasm, watching as Jack grabbed his wife's hands in his own and kissed her quickly. Jack and Maddie were the perfect example of the type of married couple she wanted to be…that is, if she were married for real. Since she wasn't, the older Fenton couple was as good a couple as any to emulate.

Pamela balked at Jack's excitement and turned to Sam in a quick pivot. "Now, Samantha. Before the cake stales."

Sam nodded with a deep sigh and set off to find the Fenton siblings. She'd bobbed and weaved through tables of people (narrowly avoiding Portia Cain and Big Pam) before she finally made her way out of the large wooden doors that she had made her entrance through. To her relief, which was quickly replaced by dismay, she found Jazz standing outside the doors with Tucker, speaking in hushed tones.

"_At my wedding_?" She hissed. "_Is there not enough lying and sacrilege happening today_ _without you too rendezvous-ing it up out here_?" Sam looked back and forth between them in exasperation.

Tucker shook his head. "Have you seen Danny?"

"Obviously you haven't. You still have your face." Sam remarked.

"Can we _not_ address the elephant right now?" Tucker sighed.

"Can you _stop_ using that horrible expression?" Sam requested darkly, her eye giving an involuntary twitch.

Jazz made a move to push them both toward the door. "Bicker later. We have to find Danny and you two need to get out of here. Now."

Sam opened the doors in confusion, trying to turn to Jazz and walk at the same time. "I can't just leave my own wedding. I'm pretty sure people are going to notice."

"Uh, no. They won't if what we think is going to happen is about to happen." Tucker told her, rushing her back toward the table she had just come from.

She stopped and turned toward the two of them. There was no way she was going back to that table without Danny in tow. She could see her mother from where she was. She was not going to narrowly escape death on her wedding day just to put herself back in harm's way.

"Too late." Sam heard Jazz murmur. They spotted Danny at the same time as her mother did, approaching the table with one of his aunts. Jack had been about to announce something to Danny before Pamela promptly cut him off and started speaking. Not wanting to leave Danny to fend her mother off alone, she continued toward the table at the same pace that Tucker had been rushing her with.

"There is time for idle chat later. Right now, all three _Fentons_ are needed over there." Pamela pointed at the table, but never broke eye-contact with Sam. Sam mentally winced. Just how much had her mother heard of her conversation with Maddie?

Jazz fumbled around for the majority of their short trip across the room, leaving Danny to question, "What is with you?"

Jazz only shook her head and looked around with darting eyes. Sam also began to look around, beginning to feel a little paranoid about the way that Jazz was acting. "Okay. Seriously, what is wrong with you? What is going on that you keep looking around? And what was Tucker talking about?"

The three of them were shown where to stand behind a long table and Jazz plastered on a big smile before she bit her lip uncertainly. She looked around for a moment more before she finally muttered, "Uhm…ghost."

Danny and Sam turned their heads to her swiftly, but were just as quickly corrected by a photographer who needed them to face the camera. "What did you just say?" Danny asked through his smile.

"Uhm...yeah. Ghost. There is a ghost. There is kind of a ghost in the building." Jazz quickly whispered, trying to maintain her smile. Sam had no idea how to feel at that moment. On one side, it would mean the end of her unnecessarily massive wedding. On the other side, she would never hear the end of it from her mother. On another side, the room was filled with ghost hunters and could her mother _really_ hold a grudge against a ghost?

"How is there _kind of_ a ghost?" Danny hissed.

The corner of Sam's mouth twitched. Yes, of course she could hold a grudge against a ghost. Her mother could hold a grudge against anything!

"What do we do?" Sam turned to Jazz only to get corrected again. Neither Fenton answered her. Danny and Sam were finally allowed to sit as the elaborate chairs they had been sitting in had somehow made their way to the other side of the room. Jazz was handed several index cards and told to read aloud the information about the gifts as Sam and Danny opened the gift.

Danny was handed the first gift, which was a large red box with a white ribbon on it. Sam held the box as Danny pulled on the ribbon and the small card attached to it. The box opened on all sides revealing a beautiful glass chess set with black and silver pieces. Sam turned to Danny to see his expression, only to see that his smile had fallen. He stared at the card for a moment longer before his eyes scanned the room carefully with a grim expression. He stopped, catching himself and smiling for the cameras.

"What's wrong? Is it a ghost?" Sam asked, trying to hide her worry as her fingers trailed over the smooth glass of the chess board. The woman with the clipboard motioned for Jazz to read the first card that she was holding.

She had never actually come into contact with a real ghost. She'd seen them on television and had seen more than her fair share of news coverage about them and the incidents of Amity Park, but she'd never actually been near one…minus the one that had been in the cabinet. Jazz and Danny had told her he was a harmless nuisance though, she didn't count that.

"For the first present, a custom made frosted glass chess set made in—"

Jazz was still speaking, but Sam was more interested in the card that Danny was still holding. In a neat script written in black ink was, _'To the new Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Fenton. May the games, the chase, and the fun never cease.'_

"No, worse." Danny responded evenly, eyeing the chess set. Her mother gestured for one of them to read the card. He took the card and carefully crumpled it in his hand while looking out toward their parents.

"…From Mr. Vlad Masters." Danny announced. Sam looked through the crowd of applauding people to see a silver-haired man in a black suit standing in between both of their parents.

Since most of the gifts the couple had received were checks, opening gifts took about an hour and a half. Danny seemed distracted the entire time and only seemed to focus again once they were being directed toward their colossal wedding cake. After the cutting of the cake and the announcement that the bride and groom would soon be leaving, Danny turned to Sam.

"Jazz is right, we need to get out of here." He said, his voice taking an odd tone. Sam followed Danny's suddenly hardened gaze to the other side of the room where his mother and father stood with the man she'd noticed earlier. Before she could question his sudden mood swing, they had already begun leading the man toward them.

"Honey, look who it is!" Maddie smiled.

Danny immediately put his arm around Sam's waist, bringing her so close to his side that their hips were nearly bumping. She gave him a startled look before settling on the older man in front of them. He stood in an expensive black suit, his silver-gray hair slicked back into a low ponytail. He rubbed his low-trimmed, well-manicured beard in contemplation, with a wide smile on his face that lit up his dull blue eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The man said, his voice smooth and deep. "I was just telling Maddie and Jack about how I would have come over sooner. I've just been over there pondering how a chap like young Daniel could have ever found himself such a beautiful bride. Congratulations."

Sam smiled politely. She could practically feel the heat radiating from Danny as he incidentally dug his fingers deeper into her side.

"Ouch. Danny." She whispered, nudging him and leaning her hip away from his hand and as a result, closer to his side. Her waist was officially pressed up against his side.

He seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had been in as he looked the older man square in the eye and offered the hand that was not clasped around Sam's hipbone. "Thank you…Vlad."

So the man that she had seen was Vlad. Danny's body stiffened considerably as the man known as Vlad took a step closer to admire Sam in her dress. It would explain why Danny had looked in that direction, but it didn't explain his behavior. She was seconds away from telling Danny that they would never make it through the full year if the spousal abuse continued, when Maddie spoke up.

"I didn't know you invited Vlad, sweetie. Your father is over the moon." Maddie gushed, turning to wave Jack over to them.

There were still at least fifty to seventy people on the dance floor and the woman with the clipboard was motioning waiters with cake in all different directions. Quite a few people were making their way out of the banquet hall, meaning that Danny and Sam would be allowed to leave sooner than later.

"I didn't." Danny muttered darkly, never having taken his eyes away from the other man's. Sam immediately filled in the blanks.

"Oh. Vlad Masters. My parents—"

"—are aiding Mr. Masters in his bid for governor of Michigan." Pamela announced, seemingly appearing from nowhere once again. Sam watched as her mother set her sights on Maddie. While Maddie was still smiling pleasantly, Sam could spot the grimace in her mother's own smile. "You know the Fentons."

It wasn't a question at all. It couldn't have sat well with Pamela to have pre-judged the Fentons, only to find out that they were somehow affiliated, and perhaps even friendly with the man she was apparently backing for governor. One of the few times that she'd chosen to listen to her mother after the dinner incident with the Fentons, she remembered that her mother had been going on about how powerful her endorsement could be for such a man of such stature.

"College." Danny answered. He had finally broken eye contact with Mr. Masters and was now looking at Pamela. He had finally loosened his grasp on Sam's waist, which was eternally thankful for. "University of Wisconsin-Madison."

"Yes," Maddie beamed. "Apparently Vlad is relocating back to Michigan."

"That's nice." Sam offered, nearly positive she was going to be left with a bruise along her hipbone. "Why the move?"

Vlad offered a charming smile as he simply stated, "I've always been quite fond of Michigan…especially of its people."

Even without looking at him, Sam could sense that Danny was withholding a reaction toward the man and toward the fact that he would soon be sharing a state residency with him. She definitely planned on grilling her new husband on what his deal was with the newest candidate for governor. As far as she knew, and she thought she knew pretty well, it was unlike Danny to flat out dislike anyone, especially to the point of a physical reaction.

"How _pleasantly_ surprising that we all know each other." Pamela replied, carefully cutting into the conversation. "It's just so…uncanny."

Jack grinned excitedly and puffed his chest out. "Vladdy and I go way back. We've been best friends for nearly a decade. In fact, FentonWorks would be proud to announce our support of your run for office!"

Sam wasn't sure who protested first, her mother or Danny. She was certain however that her mother protested the loudest. Startled and embarrassed, Pamela quickly rattled off an excuse about mixing family and politics while Danny just looked off into the other direction.

"Alright, speaking of family, how soon can we get these kids out of here so they can start working on the next generation of Fentons?" Jack heartily smacked his son on the back, completely oblivious to the horror on the faces around him and bringing Danny back out of his daze.

"Jack!" Maddie scolded. She sheepishly minded the looks on both her son and daughter-in-law's faces as she grabbed Jack's arm. Meanwhile, Pamela looked quite torn between bludgeoning Jack with her Chanel handbag and saving face in front of Mr. Masters. The latter was chosen, thankfully, and Pamela gave a slight, stiff laugh as she surveyed the room.

She cleared her throat and beckoned a nearby woman with what looked like yet another checklist. "Unfortunately, it is about time for the bride and groom to make their departure. Hannah, summon the limousines."

"For the ninth time today, my name is Susan…" The woman muttered, pushing her short blonde hair out of her eyes.

"We're going to get out of here," Maddie directed toward Danny. "Before your father causes your new mother-in-law any more visible pain."

Danny and Mr. Masters shook hands before the older man turned to Sam with an extended hand. "Mrs. Fenton, until we meet again."

Sam placed her hand in his and allowed him to gently pat it with his cold hand, hoping that Danny wasn't going to launch himself at the other man. Sam never could have imagined that her wedding day, pretend or not, would involve avoiding serious amounts of bloodshed.

As Hannah/Susan came back to report that the limousines were outside, Pamela took this time to usher Danny and Sam to the exit.

"Now, the two of you are going on your honeymoon. Samantha, your things have been placed at your…home and Daniel, your things can and will be placed there at a moment's notice. The two of you will be resuming therapy in exactly five weeks and two days, the two of you will also be exuding marital bliss and happiness and you will smile until your cheeks pop because as far as I am concerned, I own you for the next year starting…now." Pamela looked up from her watch and smiled at her daughter and son-in-law.

One of the last few photographers snapped a photo of the three of them before asking them to come closer together. "You broke into my apartment and moved my things to the new house?" Sam asked through her teeth.

"No," Pamela remarked. "Two six foot tall movers named Jacque and Pierre broke into your apartment and moved your things to the new house. Now stand up straight, lest you look pigeon-toed in your wedding photos."

Sam wondered if it was possible to sign a deal with the devil when the devil was indeed your own mother. What her father had seen in her mother all those years ago was still a loaded question that had yet to be answered. Speaking of her father, she glanced around to find that he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, she realized, she hadn't seen him in quite some time. When she brought it up to her mother, Pamela simply pursed her lips.

"In case you have forgotten, this is a business deal. A shimmering business deal involving a caterer who charges far too much for truffles, but a business deal nonetheless. There are still 'I's to be dotted and 'T's to be crossed." Her mother informed.

Once they were safely out of the door and making their way down the long corridor to the front exit of the building, Danny sighed. "Sometimes I think that I would love to be able to see what's inside your mother's head, at least to prepare myself."

Sam shook her head. "No, you don't. You don't want to go anywhere near where the evil we just escaped was thought up."

Allowing Danny to push the doors open for her, and giving a noncommittal nod when some stranger asked if they were the newlyweds, Sam took her first steps into the world as Mrs. Samantha Fenton.

"—and when his father walked in, there Felipe and I were, both just as naked as the day we were born." Sam turned to her left to see Ida entrancing three young busboys with her ghastly and familiar tale.

"Gram! We're leaving!" Sam laughed, stepping toward her grandmother along with Danny.

Ida made her way toward them, grinning proudly. "There they are. I've been out here for an hour avoiding having my photograph taken with the dybbuk. I doubt she appears on film anyway. I hear vampires cannot be photographed."

She stifled her laughter, not wanting to encourage her grandmother. "Well, you also avoided having your photo taken with me. I missed you in there."

Sam had missed her grandmother, especially in all of the excitement. Though she wouldn't ask, she had a feeling that her mother and grandmother had gotten into another disagreement regarding her father. Her grandmother didn't appreciate that her family's business was being, in Ida's own words, "run into the ground" by Pamela. She could vaguely remember a time when Gram and her mother had gotten along, though she was too young to understand why they were nearly nemeses now. By the time she had gotten old enough to understand, no one seemed very interested in informing her of anything.

Her small grandmother reached up to pat her shoulder. "Sammy, dear. Danny sent me this application. 'Insta-photogram'! It's great. We can take all the pictures we need and spice 'em right up."

Sam turned to Danny with a bemused expression on her face as he corrected, "Instagram, Ida." It was at this point that Sam could no longer contain her laughter. "You text my grandmother?"

Danny grinned at her and simply asked, "Jealous?"

Rolling her eyes, she asked one of the busboys to take their photograph with her grandmother's iPhone. She would have to ask her grandmother when exactly she had procured an iPhone, and whether or not it had been Danny's doing. She had a feeling that it was. Once three or four photos were taken, Ida looked through her phone happily.

"Now how do I make them sexy and purple?" The elderly woman questioned.

Hugging her, Danny promised that he'd text her with directions and Ida said she would hold him to it. Sam leaned over to hug her grandmother and kiss her on the cheek. As she went to move away, Ida held on. "You did good, my little one." She whispered.

After receiving what appeared to be the third (or second, since she really hadn't figured out what was going on with Jazz) commendation of the day, Sam got into the black limousine as Danny held the door open for her. She looked over Danny as the limo pulled off, to see that Gran had gone back to her wonderful tale. Sam leaned back into the seat with closed eyes and a satisfied sigh. "So you really text my grandmother?"

"Yep. Doing it right now." Sam peeked over to see that he was in fact texting someone. When he noticed her peeking, he turned his phone away, a smirk playing at his lips.

"What on earth could you possibly have to talk to her about?" She questioned.

There was silence for a moment before Danny easily responded, "And wouldn't you like to know."

Sam wasn't quite positive who was corrupting who in their little friendship, and she decided that she didn't want to know. She stretched and turned to the back window and through the 'Just Married' sign she could see that they were already headed toward the freeway. She guessed that she had about forty-five minutes or so before she would be walking into the threshold of her new home. She was so tired from the day's events that she probably wouldn't have even protested if Danny tried to carry her in.

Though it was a major violation of her privacy, and beside the fact that it was totally illegal, it was kind of a relief to know that her things were already in the house. It was one more thing that she was glad that she wouldn't have to worry about. The events of the day flipped through her mind like pictures in a storybook as her eyes fluttered shut. She leaned her head on Danny's shoulder and found that she didn't mind when he put his arm around her.

"Wake me when we get there?" Sam yawned.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Fenton." She heard in reply.

'Mrs. Fenton'. It was a name that only days before she had only associated with Maddie. Yes, she was technically married to Danny after their drunken wedding from the depths of Hades, but it hadn't seemed like it. The question of how it felt to be a Fenton went through her mind again and she decided that she now knew. It felt right, like Jazz said; it felt like the honor that Maddie made it out to be; it felt like she did good, like Gram said.

More than anything, it felt warm…and happy, like how she felt when she was with Danny…like how it felt to be wrapped into him and snuggled into his shoulder.

"You know," Sam mumbled, before she completely drifted off. "I think my mother's given me a phobia of elephants."

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Okay guys, don't forget to check out the poll on the author's page!


	17. Adventures In Suburbia

Haha, I love irony. Way back in 2009 when I was choosing people to portray the characters of CLV, I chose Brandon Routh as Danny and Sophia Bush as Sam. Now those two are working together on the NBC show "Partners". I like the show and it's pretty funny watching my Danny and Sam characters interact with each other.

More importantly, I'm looking for a beta reader!

Enjoy!

* * *

"Remind me again why we get to stay holed up in the house." Danny asked, carrying the last of his things into the entryway to their new home. "Not that I'm complaining."

Danny and Sam had gotten married exactly three days ago and they were currently transporting all of Danny's belongings out of Tucker's apartment and into their wonderful suburban dream. Sam had to admit that she loved it in the house. Of all of the places to share a space, she couldn't have imagined a better place than this. Of course, she had begun to err on the side of caution when opening cabinets and such after the last incident.

Thankfully…or maybe not, depending on who you asked, Jack had insisted on showing her how to use what he called a 'Fenton Thermos'. Sam immediately recognized it as the thermos that Jazz had used that day. She was glad it was just a thermos and not something that looked more menacing. She didn't think she'd feel too safe wielding something like a 'Fenton Torch' or a 'Fenton Bazooka'. The thermos would do just fine.

"Right about now I think we're supposed to be lounging on a Tahitian beach sipping mojitos." She supposed, glancing at the imaginary watch on her wrist.

It was true. They were supposed to be on their honeymoon. But since they weren't _actually_ married, they weren't _actually_ going anywhere, which was fine with Sam. Though they'd left the reception with the intention of going to their new house, Pamela had called the car phone at the very last minute and insisted that they be driven to the airport because "people would be watching".

With Sam asleep, Danny was left to obediently follow his new mother-in-law's paranoid demands and had the driver take them to the airport instead.

After being forced to walk around and simply "be seen" for nearly an hour, Sam, who was still exhausted, insisted that they just crash for the night at her old apartment. They had spent the other two days at Jazz's house to appease her mother's desire that they not be seen for at least seventy-two hours. They'd fulfilled the crazy woman's wishes and were now finally able to reside in the place that they would call home for the next year.

"Yeah, well how about you also envision a cabana boy to get the rest of this crap into your love nest?" Tucker grumbled, hauling an extra large box in and plopping it near the stairs. "Hope that wasn't delicate."

"I hope your face isn't delicate." Danny retaliated before they engaged in a punching match.

Sam rolled her eyes and headed back toward the moving truck only to see that it was empty. She pulled the door down and glanced around at her surroundings. It seemed like a very peaceful, subdued suburban neighborhood. Her eyes shifted back and forth toward the surrounding houses as she skeptically wondered which one of her neighbors was probably a serial killer. It was always neighborhoods like these.

'_I hope this isn't one of those neighborhoods with the idiot wife who has no idea her husband is hiding some other life.'_ Sam thought to herself, snorting at the thought. She turned around to see Danny and Tucker surveying their surroundings as she just had been.

"Alrighty, Fentons. I'm out of here. Gonna drop the truck back on my way home." Tucker thumped Danny on the back and hugged Sam goodbye as he hopped into the driver's seat of the small truck.

"Thanks, Tuck. I owe you, man." Danny said with a stretch.

"Getting you off my damn couch is payment enough. Enjoy the honeymoon…but don't enjoy it too much." Tucker turned the engine on with a wink before he sped off. If Sam had more energy she probably would have chased the truck and smacked him upside his head at the first red light.

The last three days had given Sam ample time to think and process everything that had occurred within those last few weeks. She met a guy…married the guy…introduced him to her dysfunctional family…met his psycho ex-girlfriend…became friends with the guy…met his family…married the guy again…and now she had currently moved in with him. Really, when she put it that way it was a lot less complicated…especially if she left out the drunken parts. I mean really, who _actually_ needed to remember the drunken parts?

That was another thing. The drunken memories had slowed to the point where they would only resurface if she concentrated on them when the déjà vu struck. Though she constantly assured herself that it was for the best and that her mind was obviously shielding her from drunken recollections that she would never again be able to forget, Sam couldn't help but wish that she had all of the pieces to the puzzle. For instance, she could not remember how exactly the idea of marriage had come into play and maybe more importantly, whose idea it had been.

Yes, she already had the clear memory of Danny proposing to her in his stupor and of herself saying yes, but the details of how they'd gotten there were incredibly hazy.

Had they been talking about her impending nuptials and how much she detested her future husband? She wasn't quite sure whether that scenario was easier to believe because Adam was truly insufferable or because it just made life so much simpler and sweeter to blame that blonde windbag and keep it moving.

Sam followed Danny into the house, eyeing the houses to the left and to the right of them respectively. Though she didn't plan on being completely antisocial, she hoped that she wouldn't be expected to attend weekly barbecues and housewarmings. In fact, as she closed the front door she hoped even more so that she would not be expected to be the host of weekly barbecues and a housewarming. She turned to Danny to voice these thoughts only to find that he was no longer standing beside her.

Swiveling around, Sam caught a glimpse of his back as he lightly tread up the stairs. It amazed her at times how swiftly and quietly Danny always seemed to move. Sam kicked off her shoes and moved to follow him.

"Sometimes I wonder if I married a ninja…or if you were just really good at sneaking out when you were younger." Sam mused, a smile playing at her lips. Danny turned his head to her as he gave a slight kick to the door to the left of them.

"You gonna speculate on my possibly troubled youth or you gonna open the bedroom door?" Danny smirked, nodding his head toward the door that his foot had just reached.

Sam's heart nearly stopped as his words circled through her head. Of course it made sense…Jack and Maddie had bought the house for the soon-to-be newlyweds and it was just a starter house, so of course there weren't going to be a lot of bedrooms in it. The mansion had obviously spoiled her as far as bedrooms went. When a girl grows up in a palatial palace with over fifteen bedrooms in it, she will obviously be tainted bedroom-wise for the rest of her existence.

But then again, she had lived in her one-bedroom apartment and done just fine…but_ then again_, she was one person in one bedroom. She was now looking to be two people in one bedroom…in one bed.

It took Danny clearing his throat for Sam to realize that though her fingers were tightly grasped around the doorknob, she had never opened it. She shut her eyes as Danny walked in ahead of her and dropped the box on the floor with a soft 'thump'. Once she opened her eyes, she looked around in confusion.

"This…is all my stuff." She said, walking into the large bedroom. The walls were painted a beautiful sage green and the cherry wood floors were freshly polished. There was a new gray and black upholstered headboard attached to her bed frame now, replacing the old wooden headboard that had long since dulled since her days at the mansion. She couldn't tell whether everything else had been replaced with newer replicas by her overbearing mother or whether it all just looked like new in her new bedroom.

"Well, yeah. This is your room." Danny remarked. He took one look at Sam's relieved face before he began laughing. "Sam," He pointed to the box near the door. "That's your stuff. My room's across the hall. I'm giving you the master bedroom and I'm gonna be in the guest room."

Danny walked over to a door that Sam had assumed to be a closet before he opened it, revealing a full sized bathroom. Sam stepped in it with him, admiring the lovely light gold faucets and fixtures. She stood near the sink, breaking out into a smile.

"You know the last time we were standing in a bathroom together the circumstances were substantially different…aside from the still married part." She remarked, wincing at the memory of herself heaving into the porcelain throne.

Danny walked out of the bathroom and corrected her with a grimace. "Actually, the last time we were in a bathroom together you were covered in ectoplasm."

Following Danny out of what she now knew to be her bedroom, Sam realized that he was right. Why was it that every time they had been in the bathroom together she had been a less than ideal version of herself? Sam also made a mental note not to get too comfortable about the idea of being in bathrooms with Danny. It wasn't healthy… "Oh yeah. I had forgotten about that."

"Good." Danny muttered, going down the stairs much less quietly than he'd gone up them. After about thirty more minutes the pair of them worked in comfortable silence, bringing Danny's things upstairs into Danny's room.

Though he obviously hadn't lived in the room yet, it definitely seemed as if he had. From the navy blue paint to the dark gray carpet that lay underneath his bed frame and against the hardwood, the room just seemed to scream to her that it belonged to him. She could only imagine just how defined the bedroom would become once all of his things were unpacked and placed where he wanted them to be. Sam placed the last box she had to carry onto Danny's bare mattress, sighing tiredly as her stomach made its hunger known.

"Looks like you also forgot to eat." Danny said, leaning against the door frame with his keys in hand.

"I know," Sam said, slumping to the floor. "I checked when you and Tucker were unloading the truck. There is nothing in this house but water and wedding cake. It's ridiculous, even prisoners have bread."

Laughing, Danny took two short strides and extended his hand to help up his famished bride. "Unlike prisoners we happen to be fully capable of going to the store. You game?"

Sam had barely nodded halfway before her stomach growled again and Danny immediately hoisted her over his shoulder. "Wait! I have to get my shoes!"

"Nope. No time, Mrs. Fenton. We've got to go before you starve to death!" He made his way toward the door with Sam failing her attempt not to laugh as she squirmed on his shoulder.

"Danny Fenton!"

* * *

Sam stared inside the metal frame of the cart she was currently pushing as Danny dropped yet another box of sugary cereal into it. Danny had chosen the supermarket his mother often frequented right outside of Amity Park. He didn't know of any other one and neither Sam nor himself felt like getting lost around town to find one locally.

So far they had filled up about half of the large shopping cart, but as far as Sam was concerned, it was all junk.

Her eyes scanned over what she had mentally dubbed the 'man food' that Danny had been haphazardly throwing in. There were several microwavable dinners in what the box assured were 'man sized portions'…yeah, whatever…and more cereal than she was comfortable with. She was beginning to see why Maddie fussed over Danny and his eating habits so much. If it were up to him he would probably have lived off of processed macaroni and Cookie Crisp.

Luckily, because one of them had no intention of dying, Sam had placed what she was referring to as the 'real food' in the cart, such as meats, vegetables, eggs…and other things that weren't every dietitian's nightmare.

She followed Danny into the soup aisle, which they had been in nearly four times, because apparently he'd forgotten something...again. She was just about ready to tell him that if he hadn't found it the first handful of times that it obviously wasn't necessary.

"Never again am I shopping with you without a list." Sam informed him.

"What do we need a list for? We're already here. And besides, you were on the brink of death. There wasn't time for a list." Danny retorted, scanning over rows and rows of cans.

Sam threw him a look, leaning against the handle of the cart as Danny continued to peruse the aisle. Finally, he returned with an armful of Chef Boyardee, resulting in Sam stopping to hold up both hands.

"Ah-ah-ah." She tutted. "If you put one more over-processed can of junk into this cart, Daniel Fenton…"

Danny dropped them into the cart defiantly. "Hey, it's not for me. It's for Lynne. I remember she said they were her favorite so I figured they would be there waiting for her whenever she comes over."

Sam's heart instantly melted. She could envision a much younger Danny doing the same thing to Maddie on a similar grocery store excursion. His blue eyes were alight with compassion as well as a small glint that she knew meant that he knew he was going to get what he wanted. If Danny ever had children, she knew his wife would be in trouble. Sam's neck grew hot as she remembered that she was currently his wife and that she had basically just imagined having children with him.

_"—and they would have your eyes." Sam informed him as Danny fumbled with the room key. Her head turned to see a door open to the far left of them and much to her drunken excitement, she recognized the person._

"_Hey! It's Taylor!" She waved at the impersonator who had just taken part in their wedding earlier that evening. The drunken woman, who now that Sam was not quite so inebriated, looked a lot less like Taylor Swift and a lot more like Betty White. _

Apparently, it wasn't the first time that her imagination had run wild. Sam blinked at the memory, focusing in on the black and white checkered tile that she had been staring at. Danny hadn't noticed as he was back to filling their cart with unnecessary items. As she shifted her weight from her left foot to her right, Danny finally turned toward her holding two cans of 'Beef Ravioli'.

"I don't see the microwavable kind. Can you look in the next aisle and see if they're stocked there?" Danny asked, looking up from the can labels.

The newly-appointed Mrs. Fenton raised an eyebrow, resting her elbows on the cart handle. "I doubt they would separate them into two aisles, Danny."

"Are we about to have our first married couple disagreement over ravioli?" Danny smirked. He was trying to hide the bemusement in his voice. Sam pursed her lips and pushed the cart toward the end of the aisle without another word.

Though his reasoning was stupid and he was probably wrong, she didn't want to waste their first disagreement over something so trivial or sully their first grocery store trip. She turned into the next aisle, as requested by her husband, muttering, "Technically, we've been married the whole damn time. This wouldn't be the first…just the one I'm the most right about."

She had pushed the cart halfway to the 'Microwavables' when a familiar voice forced her to stop dead in her tracks.

"—no, no. It's perfectly fine. I've been to three stores already so I've already gotten used to the disappointment…" The woman's voice trailed off as she turned her head to see where the sound of screeching cart wheels had come from. Valerie gave a humorless chuckle once she saw who it was.

"Can I help you with anything else, Miss?" The young grocery store attendant questioned beside her. Valerie shook her head with a slight wave of her hand before she found herself standing directly in front of Sam.

In her hand she held a can of imitation tomato paste that Sam could very well see being launched at her face. She took a careful sidestep so that she was strategically out of reach in case the other woman felt like testing her throwing arm.

"Slumming it, aren't we? Don't you have servants for this sort of thing?" Valerie asked.

Sam concentrated with every fiber of her being to say the most anodyne thing she could think of. In the end, Gram's long ago lecture of what to say when you could say nothing nice won out and she found herself simply remarking, "Valerie. Hello."

The other woman seemed not to be appeased by Sam's peaceful remark and continued. "So what brings you here?"

Sam simply gestured at the cart she was pushing as she looked behind Valerie. She could at least find the 'Microwavables' before she was brutally murdered in the grocery store. She might have preferred to be taken out on her wedding day instead of in McNally's Grocery Emporium…cold…alone…surrounded by re-fried beans…It could have been worse. She could have been maimed in the freezer section.

"Well?"

"Well what? Why are you asking me questions?" Sam finally snapped. Those would probably be her last words. She might as well have stood up for herself in her final moments.

"Why aren't you answering them?" The other woman asked haughtily, as if this were an amusing game to her. It probably was. Valerie flicked her wrist, revealing a very lovely silver bracelet with a sapphire teardrop shaped charm hanging from it. Sam chastised herself for mentally complimenting the style of the enemy.

"_Why_ are you such a psychotic b—?" Sam's harsh words were cut off by Danny obliviously approaching and remarking, "Fine. You were right but I'm not sleeping on the cou—"

The "—ch" sound lamely fell from his lips as he found his wife and scorned ex facing off with only a shopping cart between them.

"Well, now. I heard that there had been a second wedding and yet here I am, still shocked to find you two domesticating it up." Valerie remarked, coolly glancing inside of their cart.

Danny cleared his throat and gave a slight nod as if he were unsure of what to say. Sam could have hit him. He was always Mr. Talkative until the ball was completely on his turf…or _however_ that stupid sports analogy went. She had more pressing matters at hand…like the fact that she was going to be impaled with fake tomatoes if her lovely significant other didn't tap into his gift of gab.

"I trust it was a lovely affair. Then again, every _affair_ with you is lovely isn't it, Manson?...Oh. I meant _Fenton_." Valerie smiled tightly. Her eyes were locked on Sam's again. Sam decided to concentrate all of her efforts into another attempt to be the bigger person.

"Though it's probably just as well that I didn't receive an invitation. I might have been expected to toast and I just can't think of a single thing that rhymes with 'homewrecker'." Valerie continued offhandedly.

"Double-decker." An older Latino man suggested as he passed by the three of them with his cart. Sam closed her eyes tightly and mentally thanked the peanut gallery.

Seeing that she was now getting no response from either of the newlyweds, she finally conceded. "Well. To the new Mrs. Fenton from the woman who almost was…enjoy it. You never know when some little white girl with money and a flat butt is going to steal him away."

Sam found herself gaping slightly. Not just because her butt was _**not**_ flat but because Valerie had just said...

Valerie gave another humorless laugh. "Oh...you didn't know, did you? Well, you're welcome for introducing you." She turned to Danny. "Secrets in your marriage, huh? Big secrets? _Haunting_ secrets?"

"You should get going." Danny suddenly suggested, gritting his teeth slightly.

Valerie shrugged as she backed away, a dangerous glimmer in her eyes. "As a former flame, it's my obligation to inform her." Turning back to Sam she evenly remarked, "One day you are going to wake up and you are going to realize that Daniel Fenton is all that you think he is…and so much more. It's almost like he's a _whole 'nother person_…"

With that said, Valerie turned on her heel and walked away. Danny turned to Sam to see that her face had set into an even expression. She kept her mouth shut as they walked through the last three aisles and didn't say a word through the checkout line or as they loaded the bags into Betsy. In fact, it wasn't until Danny started the engine and looked at her with both of his hands clutching the wheel that she finally spoke.

"Engaged." She said it so quietly that Danny had to turn the radio volume all the way down to hear her. "You were engaged to Valerie."

Danny sighed. "Correct me if I'm wrong but we met on your wedding day…"

"Bachelorette party." Sam corrected.

"You know what I—"

"Okay. You know how usually the whole Adam and Valerie thing works 'tit for tat'? Not this time. You were _engaged_ to her, Danny. No wonder she hates me the way she does. I didn't just ruin her relationship…_God, I ruined what was about to be her marriage_!" Sam moved her bangs from her face brusquely.

Sam was beyond frustrated. Though she was positively sure that Valerie was a close second to the devil (her mother was of course said devil) she could finally somewhat grasp the reason for her fury. Here she was, about to marry a guy…well, not just any guy, _Danny_…and in three point two seconds, he was gone. It was like what she did to Adam…except this time it wasn't okay!

"Almost engaged." Danny admitted, lowly. "We were…talking about getting engaged."

"Do not use semantics with me, Danny. You were about to marry her." Sam shot back. She was sitting forward so rigidly that the seat belt was pressing against her chest.

"No. I wasn't." Danny pulled the car into a random parking lot before he turned the ignition off and turned toward her. Sam looked around to see that the parking lot was not as random as she thought. They were at Club Baja.

"Every single night Valerie and I would start fighting. Sometimes it would be about big things…other times it would be about the stupidest things. She just…anyway, every night I'd leave out. I used to go to Jazz's or Tucker's. A few times I crashed in my old bedroom at home, but after a while I found myself coming here. I never actually went in or anything until…"

"The night before I was supposed to marry Adam." Sam clued in. Danny nodded.

"I walked into the apartment and Val and I had a major blowout about getting married. She said we'd been together for nearly five years and she was getting tired of waiting. So she gave me an ultimatum…and I said I needed time to think about it and I ended up here. I don't even remember walking in, I just remember sitting down and ordering a—"

"—vodka, straight up. I remember." Sam told him softly. "…Oh. That means…"

"Yeah." He nodded. "The next time Valerie heard from me was the next morning when I called to tell her that I had married you."

Sam inhaled deeply. All she wanted to do was collapse into her old bed in their new house. The day had been exhausting between moving Danny's things, their confrontation with Valerie and grocery shopping. She wasn't sure whether her newfound information made her feel better or worse about the situation. Danny had pulled out of the parking lot and began driving again, leaving Sam to silently mull over her thoughts.

"I'm sorry." Danny said, patting her hand gently as he stopped at a red light. Sam gave a soft smile.

"So am I. I'm sorry. I overreacted. She just seemed so smug and like she knew something I didn't and it just made me so irritated." Sam demonstrated her irritation by pretending to wring her hands around something while shaking it.

"Understandable." Danny nodded. "And now, since I've gotten pretty awesome with my Adam impression you can work on your Valerie."

Sam laughed. She was beginning to recognize her surroundings again. "Okay. From this point on, let's agree. No secrets."

Danny, who was looking straight ahead as he drove into their neighborhood, gave a stiff nod. He pulled up into their driveway as he turned to her. "Sam—"

"Danny! Look out!" Sam cried out.

Danny turned his head and immediately slammed on the brakes to avoid running over a middle-aged woman with what looked like a pie. Sam blinked once…then again before she realized that the woman was no figment of her imagination and neither was the pie.

Sam scrambled out of the car, groceries forgotten. "Oh my God, are you okay?!"

The woman smiled, wiping her free hand on the tan and white flowered apron she was wearing. She looked like she had walked right off of the set of 'Desperate Housewives'. Her hair was perfectly tied back into a bun and her makeup looked light and fresh as though it had been airbrushed onto her. She'd had Botox for sure, because there was no possible way that her face was just…like that and her crisp white shirt was nearly as bright as the wedding dresses that had been in Sam's old bedroom.

"Oh, I'm completely alright. You must be the new Mrs. Fenton! It's finally nice to meet you!" Sam gave her best smile as she resisted the urge not to bolt. This was definitely the serial killer. Sam eyed the pie cautiously.

"Oh, Danny! Good to see you again! How are your parents?" The medium blonde haired woman asked Danny, who had come to stand behind her.

"Mrs. Thomas, hi. Sam, this is our next-door neighbor." He nodded toward the white house with the blue shutters to the left of theirs. "My parents and I met her when we were fixing things up."

Sam nodded, still smiling. Just because they were acquainted did not take away from the fact that she was quite possibly a pie-wielding mass murderer who had invited herself to take a stroll onto their driveway.

"Oh, please. It's Olivia. I see that you went grocery shopping. Preparing for the storm?" Olivia questioned, taking a quick and nosy glance at Sam's car which was parked behind her.

"We didn't know there was going to be a—"

"—you mean 'Hurricane Valerie'?" Sam mumbled to herself.

"—storm." Danny finished, casting a side glance at Sam.

"Oh, well you probably wouldn't have. Ritchie, my husband, has got an in with the head meteorologist in Michigan, he says there's going to be a storm coming in about eight weeks. I'm stocking up now before everyone else begins to stock up. I just hate it when the grocery stores lose their stock of chicken noodle." She turned to Sam as if she was expecting her to share the sentiment, but only received a blank look in return.

"Now, I just came to give you two this," Olivia handed the pie to Sam, who tried not to display her horror. "I'm sure you two have tons of honeymooning to get back to. Any man who nearly runs over a neighbor because he's staring at his new bride is surely in love!" She turned away, giggling to herself as she crossed back over to her own lawn in her perfectly white tennis shoes.

"What kind of fresh hell have you brought me to?" Sam whispered, sharing Danny's confused face as she held onto the pie.

"I'm not sure, but we've got the most amazing imaginary love life I've ever heard of..." He stopped. "Uh, is that ours?"

"This satanic pie? It looks like it. Why, are you going to eat it? It seems a little shady..." Sam repressed the urge not to toss the pie right onto the strange woman's lawn. She'd have to work on being more neighborly. In her defense, she'd never had to deal with neighbors before.

"Uh...no. Him."

Danny was staring behind her at something on their front doorstep. Turning around Sam saw that there was a little boy with dark hair sitting with a blue ball that was much too large for his small hands. There was a moment where no one moved; Sam and Danny stood staring at the boy as he sat, curiously watching them with big emerald green eyes.

"I am pretty sure I would remember unpacking a kid." Sam said in response to Danny's earlier question.

"Yeah, well I've learned my lesson about underestimating your mother." Danny responded back.

Sam tugged on his sleeve as she led him to their front steps. The small child didn't seem the slightest bit perturbed that there were two adults making their way toward him with a pie. If anything, it amused him. His green eyes lit up and he smiled a little grin at the two of them.

"She left us a pie and possibly her kid..." Sam muttered to Danny.

Danny shook his head, still watching the small boy. "They've only got one and she's in college."

Sam knelt down in front of the boy with Danny standing behind her. "Hi, I'm Sam. What's your name?"

"Andrew. I'm one, two, three." He counted on his fingers as a demonstration. He looked up at Danny as if to wonder why he had yet to introduce himself.

"Hey Andrew. I'm Danny. Do you know where your mommy is?" Danny questioned, bringing himself to eye level with him. Andrew shook his head so emphatically that his ball went tumbling out of his arms.

Sam turned with a quick, "I'll get it." before she went after the still rolling ball.

Danny followed the small child's wondrous gaze to the woman behind him with a small grin. "That better not be drool, little guy. She's kind of taken."

Andrew simply looked at him before turning back to the long-haired savior who was currently holding his ball. Sam had just gotten in front of the porch when she heard a terrified cry of, "Andrew?! Andrew, where are you?!"

"Over here!" Danny called out. Immediately, a petite woman with light brown hair bolted over from the other side of the fence in lavender nursing scrubs.

"Oh my God. Oh my...Andrew. What are you doing over here?! Mommy has been looking for you everywhere." She embraced Andrew tightly before she brushed his hair back to kiss his forehead.

She turned to them, still hugging her son. "Thank you so much for finding him. His friend Jeremy's family used to live in this house and I think he was looking to play with him. I'm Audrey."

Though she was now attempting a grateful smile, the woman was obviously still distressed and frazzled as a few tears left her eyes. Sam remembered once when Lynne had gotten lost at an art gala. Her younger sister had been no older than Andrew and Sam could remember feeling like such a failure after she had lost her baby sister in the outdoor gardens. Her father, though he attempted not to show it for her sake, was nearly sick with worry.

He ran around searching for her with a few of his business buddies, all of them looking rumpled and sweaty as they searched for her in their expensive suits. She could vividly see her father, patting her ten-year-old self on the head gently as he told her not to worry. She could also remember her mother's completely nonchalant response to finding out that her youngest child had gone missing.

"Everyone knows who we are, Samantha." Her mother had said. "Someone will find her. Until then, you will sit here and you will not toil around in your dress anymore."

Lynne had obviously been found and was completely unharmed, but Sam had never forgotten her mother's complete disregard for her younger sibling and for her own distress. As Sam watched Audrey hug little Andrew, she wondered if her relief was as great as when her father finally found Lynne sleeping under a chair.

"I'm Danny and this is Sam. I'm not sure how long he's been here. We just got in." He turned to Sam. "Speaking of which, the ice cream has probably melted."

Audrey picked Andrew up with a small laugh. "Olivia got to you with a welcome pie? It looks like apple and it's probably good. Crazy woman, decent cook though. Anyway, I'll let you get back to your defrosting groceries. Thank you so much for finding Andrew."

Danny and Sam returned Andrew's goodbye wave before turning back to get their groceries out of the truck. Sam turned around to see that Andrew was still watching them curiously over his mother's shoulders as Audrey retreated back to her own home. They'd successfully met the neighbors that they would be sharing fences with.

The two of them managed to get everything into the house in two trips. Danny and Sam began to put the groceries away, randomly designating where things would go. For the most part Danny just followed Sam's lead as she attempted a similar setup to the one she had in her old apartment.

As she attempted to reach for a shelf that was higher than she anticipated, especially after having taken off her shoes once again, she was grateful when Danny's longer arm reached over her.

"Now look at that. It looks like you'll be handy to have around after all." She focused on her words rather than the way her heart rate sped up slightly as his chest brushed up against her back.

She didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking in amusement. She knew him well enough to know the look that would be on his face. She should have also known that if Danny Fenton was one thing, it was full of surprises.

"Uhm?" Sam questioned as Danny placed a faux white rose wreath on the top of her head. Looking up through her eyelashes she could see one of the flowers nestled on her forehead.

"I'm officially and ceremoniously welcoming you to our home, Mrs. Fenton." Danny declared in mock-seriousness. He did a bow of some sort before taking her hand and shaking it gingerly. Sam did an excellent job of withholding her laughter.

"Are you now?" She laughed. "When did you put this in the basket?"

Turning back to her grocery duties, she decided that their groceries had faired pretty well. Though the ice cream was a little 'creamier' than preferred and the moisture from the frozen things had squished part of Danny's sugar-loaded cereal boxes into a mush, their groceries weren't looking too bad.

"Ah...somewhere in between exasperated sigh number forty-seven and when you just gave up looking into the cart altogether."

Sam smiled. There was no one else she could imagine braving suburbia with. Their neighbor might have been a nosy pie-wielding psychopath with a death wish, they might have nearly inherited a kid, and they might have been fake married for the next eleven months or so, but they still had each other. At this point she was positive that she _had_ to be at least one more plot twist away from her own Lifetime movie.

"And now, you can finish doing this all by yourself." Sam said, gesturing toward the rest of their large haul.

"Wait, why?" Danny asked.

"As punishment for leaving out the fact that you were engaged to the enemy." Sam said, halfway out of the kitchen.

"Almost!" Danny called after her, shutting a cabinet.

She walked into the entryway of the house and breathed in the fresh smell of the new wooden floors. The sun was just beginning to set and it was casting a lovely shadow through the glass panes that framed their front door. She smiled at the dark little wooden table that held a vase and a bunch of faux calla lilies. It reminded her of their meeting with that horrible real estate woman, Vivian Worrill and how Danny had been forced to describe their 'dream wedding'.

Though their initial wedding was the furthest thing from it, as far as weddings went, even counting the one that Danny lied about, she could say that she'd experienced the best. Giving a sigh, Samantha (formerly Manson, now Fenton) carefully traipsed up the stairs to her new house.

Sam was nearly to her room when she heard, "Was that exasperated sigh number forty-eight?" She walked in and shut her door, mentally preparing herself for the rest of the year.

Yes, it had been a sigh, but she was far from exasperated.


End file.
